True Companion
by bellamarie117
Summary: Bella Swan always believed in happily ever afters.When she marries her high school sweetheart & starts her own wedding business, she thinks she's living her dream.Then it all comes crashing down.Can a handsome photographer help her believe in love again?
1. The Set Up

**Chapter 1: The Set Up**

**Disclaimer (applies for all subsequent chapters):**

**Stephenie Meyer owns any Twilight characters that may appear in this story and the song that inspired this piece belongs to Marc Cohn. No copyright infringement is intended. The remainder is my original work; please do not post it elsewhere without my express permission.**

**Huge thanks to Caren and Ltlethqak for always encouraging me and making my words better than they were. As far as betas/pre-readers go, you two are totally boss. I am for shizz.**

**x-x-x**

"Isabella, the caterer says they can't set up the hors d'oeuvres buffet where it is on the diagram because there won't be enough room for traffic."

"Isabella, there aren't enough chairs at table twelve and the rental guys took all the extras with them."

"Isabella, weren't the photo booth people supposed to get here at ten to start setting up? I haven't seen them yet and it's almost eleven."

_Isabella, Isabella, Isabella._

Every weekend it was the same chorus. The words varied from time to time but the tune remained the same. In my head it always sounded like the mice from Cinderella, except instead of telling me to mop the floors and do the dishes, they wanted me to find a Chuppa at the last minute or tie four hundred chair sashes into perfectly symmetrical bows. Ridiculous, demanding mice.

But those crazy tasks were exactly why brides hired me, why I had a waiting list for practically every Saturday from April until October.

Most days, I loved my job and the challenges that came with it, but from time to time I just wanted someone else to take charge and solve one of the many "wedding disasters" that got tossed at my feet. Wasn't that why I hired three assistants? Apparently they'd forgotten to take their competency pills that morning.

_Deep breath, Bella. Keep calm and for God's sake do not roll your eyes._

Why did I let the rental people take the extra chairs with them? Stupid rookie mistake. I knew better-always overestimate your numbers. Better to be overstocked than short.

Internally knocking my head against a wall, I glanced around the ballroom, soaking in the progress that would transform the empty space into a decadent wedding reception that would knock the heels off the pickiest bride. Or so I hoped. Lauren was definitely a picky bride. She'd been stepping on my toes over every detail for months, snidely informing me that everything had better be perfect or she'd know.

Was it too much to ask that just one wedding went off without a hitch?

Whining to the powers that be wasn't going to get me anywhere. I blew out a breath and jumped into action.

"Kate, Eric's number is in your packet, shoot him a text and see what's going on. Carmen, pull one of the high top tables to the other side of the hall. It'll free up some space for the caterers. Angela, see if you can scrounge up a folding chair or something. We'll try and squeeze a cover over it and switch out with a chair from one of the back tables. Lauren will never know the difference."

When my trio of assistants scattered to complete their various assignments, I took a moment to track down my emergency kit and pop an aspirin. Thinking ahead, I dug out a few coins to nab a soda from the vending machine down the hall. Caffeine would be necessary today and I hadn't had time to grab my typical Starbucks. At ten forty five in the morning, I'd already been on the go for close to three hours and we were only getting started. By my watch, I had another solid fourteen to go. If I was lucky, my feet wouldn't start punishing me for another eight.

Such is the glamorous life of Isabella Swan, wedding coordinator.

When I was a little girl, I fell in love with weddings. I attended my first when I was five as a flower girl for one of my mom's best friends and ever since, I've been a little obsessed. Everything about them was so magical to me-the flowers, the invitations, the dresses, the music. Most of all, I loved the happily ever after.

I've always been a fan of fairy tales, sighing over the stories my mother read to me each night and dreaming of true love in my canopy princess bed. But they weren't just stories to me. I knew that true love was real because I had the best example of a happily ever after right in my very own home. My parents were madly in love, rarely fought, always flirted. They were devoted to each other. They were happy. Every time I caught them cuddling or kissing or just smiling together with such affection in their eyes, I'd dream about the day I'd find that kind of love. The kind that lasts forever.

For a long time, I thought I'd found it.

I met Jasper Whitlock in high school when he and his twin sister transferred from out of state in the middle of our freshman year. He sat next to me in history class that semester and was always asking to borrow my notes even though I saw him scribbling down every word Mr. Banner droned at us. Two weeks later he started walking me to my locker after class, carrying my books and kissing me on the cheek before rushing off to the other side of the school so he wouldn't be late for chemistry.

He asked me to the spring formal and kissed me in the cab of his pick-up truck before escorting me into the garishly decorated gym. From that day on, we were inseparable. Not only was he my boyfriend, but he was my best friend. He made me laugh and held me when I cried. In the fall of our senior year, my entire world shattered. My mom was killed in a car accident driving home one night during a bad storm. When it felt like everything was falling apart, Jasper was my strength.

He was my first in pretty much every way-first kiss, first love, first time. First husband.

When he proposed on New Year's Eve during our junior year of college, Jasper and I had already been together for six years. There wasn't an ounce of hesitation in my voice when I told him yes and threw my arms around his neck, covering his face in kisses and grinning like a fool. Jasper was my happily ever after.

We decided not to rush. We were already living together so it seemed like just a technicality in our minds. Instead, we concentrated on finishing up school and graduating while we, well,_ I_, planned and saved for our dream wedding.

Right out of undergrad, I was offered a job with an event center I'd interned with over summer breaks, working as one of their in-house coordinators. While there were other events held at the center-conferences, corporate dinners, holiday parties, I worked mostly with weddings and I couldn't have been happier. I was so excited to gain experience in the field while saving up for my chance to pursue my dream of starting my own planning business. With Jasper following his own dreams of working toward his master's degree in hopes of becoming a history professor, I thought we had it made.

I was a calm bride, slowly but surely knocking things off our checklist-booking the best photographer we could afford, finding an amazing gown, hand-assembling and addressing invitations that were works of art (in my opinion). Finally, on a beautiful June afternoon after a two and a half year engagement, I walked down the aisle in my beautiful white dress to say 'I do' to my handsome groom.

When my perfect day was over, I was more than ready to settle in to a life of wedded bliss with my Prince Charming. And at first, that's what it was: bliss. Things were good with us, easy and comfortable. We agreed on practically everything; our plans for the future meshed seamlessly. He was sweet to me, surprising me at work with flowers for no reason at all or cooking me dinner after particularly exhausting days at work. He was supportive of my dreams, encouraging me to break out on my own and start my own company. He spent countless hours helping me set up my website and filling out the countless forms that came with starting and running a small business. He calmed my nerves when I wasn't sure I could do it.

But then, somehow, it wasn't blissful and easy any more. It was hard.

Jasper's grueling schedule didn't leave a lot of time for him to hold down a job, so at my insistence, he concentrated on school and I found myself acting as the sole-supporter of the household. I ended up getting a second job as a waitress at a local pub to offset some of our bills but it still seemed like money was always tight. Between that and the growing number of weddings I was taking on, it felt like I was constantly on my feet, running around, trying not to let anyone down. It was exhausting but I thought it was worth it. I had Jasper, I had my business, I was living my dreams. And Jasper wouldn't be in school for very long, soon enough he'd be working, too and things wouldn't be so crazy.

When he graduated, it was a relief. When he found a job shortly after, I was thrilled. Finally, things were going to get easier.

Except they didn't. Jasper worked all the time, trying to establish himself as a professor. I worked all the time, trying to keep my fledgling business in the black. And since Jasper's school loans were starting to come in, I still had to keep my job at the pub.

But still, I always thought we were just going through a rough spot, that things would get better. He was still my best friend and the love of my life.

Or so I thought.

I came home one evening after running a rehearsal for that upcoming weekend to find Jasper sitting in the dark at the kitchen table, his head buried in his hands. When he looked up at me, there was so much pain in those gorgeous eyes. He looked haunted. I immediately thought something terrible had happened, maybe to Rose or one of his parents, or even Charlie. But when he opened his mouth to speak, it was so much worse than I could have imagined.

Divorce. Seemingly out of nowhere, my prince charming was asking me for a divorce.

He sat there at that table where we'd sat together countless times before and he told me that he loved me but it wasn't enough. With tears silently streaming down his cheeks and the heartbreak clear in his eyes, he told me that he'd met someone else and while nothing had happened, he didn't think it was fair to any of us for him to stay with me, pretending it was enough when he knew there was the potential for so much more.

Alice was her name, and even then, I could see a light in his eyes that was never there for me. I believed him when he said he wasn't cheating on me. Jasper wasn't that kind of guy and I trusted him completely. Still, I could see that he wanted something to happen and all that was standing in his way was our marriage.

So I didn't fight him on it, despite how much it killed me to sign my name to those cold, impersonal papers that spelled out the end of our marriage. What would have been the point? As much as the thought of divorce crushed me, it hurt even more to think about spending the rest of my life with a man who didn't love me the way I deserved, the way I'd always dreamed I'd be loved.

Twenty-five years old and divorced. Never in my entire life did I imagine I'd find myself in that position. My friends all told me to keep an open mind, that maybe this was a good thing and I'd find someone even better who would love me completely. I smiled and said what they wanted to hear, that I still had hope, that I still believed in happily ever afters. But deep down, I wasn't quite so confident.

Over a year later, I still didn't know if I had it in my heart to try again.

So I watched from the end of the aisle as all my couples said their vows and made promises to love each other forever, and at the end of the day, I went home to my empty apartment and soaked my aching feet, wishing I didn't feel so cynical.

A buzzing in the pocket of my dress pulled me out of my thoughts and had me shaking off the melancholy that always came with thoughts of Jasper.

_You've got a job to do, Bella. Focus._

"Hi there, beautiful bride," I greeted the star of the day with as much enthusiasm as I could muster. "How's everything going at the salon?"

Apparently things weren't going well at all. The stylist that Lauren decided on after torturing eight different candidates (bringing five of them to tears in the process) had come down with a nasty stomach bug that prevented her from coming in to work her magic on those golden curls. The salon was doing everything they could-providing free champagne for the entire party as well as offering up one of their other top stylists at no charge, but Lauren was in full on melt-down mode.

After some swift instructions to my team, I scurried out to my SUV and dashed over to the salon as quickly as I could, praying the entire time that Lauren hadn't assaulted someone.

Over the six years I'd been in the business of coordinating weddings, I'd run into my fair share of characters. Emotional brides, sleazy grooms, catty mothers, jealous sisters— weddings just tend to bring out the drama in people. Overall, my brides were sweet-a little stressed out from time to time trying to get everything together, but mostly just excited.

Lauren Mallory, however, was in a class of her own. The woman was spoiled rotten. Between her father and her fiancé, someone was always doting on her, calling her princess and seeing that her every need was met. Which was fine except that her needs seemed to be a twelve carat diamond tiara to wear with her eight-thousand dollar designer gown and chocolates flown in from Switzerland to serve to her five-hundred-and-eighty-six wedding guests among other things. Lauren was demanding, bitchy, and downright mean when she didn't get her way. I hesitated to call any of my brides a Bridezilla, but if there was ever going to be one I'd break that rule for, it was Lauren.

_Just get through today and then you'll never have to think of her again._

The commission alone would cover my rent for the next six months so I tried not to be bitter over the fact that she'd likely 'forget' to tip me despite how above and beyond I'd already gone for her in the eight months I'd been slaving over her wedding. When I booked a new client, I was always aware that I might run up against requests that I'd never thought of before. That was part of the excitement, the challenge. Every wedding was different. But interviewing beefy male strippers to find one willing to pose as a cop, pull over the party bus at her bachelorette party, cuff the bride to a pole and grind his g-string in her face was _not_ something I'd ever imagine I'd have to do.

_One more day. One more day,_ I chanted to myself as I hopped out of my car and approached the salon.

When I stepped through the door of the upscale salon, it was all I could do to keep from wincing. The _lovely_ bride was throwing a tantrum to rival a shrieking three year old. Shrill was really the only way to describe it and I was more than a little surprised none of the glass mirrors lining the walls had cracked yet.

Maybe it was only one more day, but the woman was going to torture me every second, I just knew it.

I threw an apologetic glance toward the salon staff cowering by the front desk and followed the screams back to the action. Lauren was pacing between empty salon chairs, yelling at anyone who came within two steps of her. Nearby, her hoard of bridesmaids, as well as her mother, grandmother, and soon-to-be-mother-in-law stood by in various stages of progress. Some wore curlers, some had half-assembled updos, some still had their hair thrown back in messy ponytails. Not a single one of them was done and they were supposed to be at the church, dressed and ready, in half an hour.

_First things first. Get everyone back on task, then deal with the explosion that is Lauren._

While the bride's attention was on her younger sister, threatening to kick her out of the bridal party if she didn't get her hair dyed blond instead of the honeyed brown it currently was, I ushered the majority of the women in the group back to their stylists, insisting that I'd handle Lauren, they just needed to take care of themselves.

Once she'd reduced her sister to tears, Lauren turned her attention, searching out her next victim, and instantly spotted me.

"Finally!" she snarled, stalking toward me. "I don't know what the hell I'm paying you for if you're not around when I need you."

The rage in her eyes had me fighting against my instinct to take a step back but I knew that would only add fuel to the fire. The second she sensed weakness, she'd be relentless and I really wasn't in the mood to get attacked by a five-foot-eight bimbo in pink velour.

"Honey, do you want a Xanax or something?" Lauren's maid of honor tentatively asked.

"No, I don't want a fucking Xanax! You, get me some vodka," she snapped at her friend before twirling back and drilling her acrylic tipped finger into my sternum. "And _you_, get my stylist off her lazy ass and over here to do my hair. Now!"

"Alright, Lauren, let's just take a deep breath," I said in a soothing voice. "We'll get this all worked out."

"There's nothing to work out! I'm the bride, it's my day and I want the fucking stylist that I paid for!" Lauren screamed, towering over me as she continued to poke at my chest.

I was tempted to snap her fake fingernail off and tell her I didn't need to take her shit, but somehow that didn't seem very professional. Instead, I gritted my teeth and steeled myself to negotiate with the hellion.

"I'm sorry, Laur-"

"Sorry?" Apologizing apparently wasn't the right move to make. Lauren's eyes flared with disgust as she shoved me back a full two feet, her talons raking across my neck in the process. "Don't you fucking say you're sorry, just fix it! That's your job!"

_Lord, give me the strength not to strangle this crazy bitch._

I ignored the stinging heat on my neck and the anger simmering in my belly. It just wasn't worth it to get into a catfight with this woman. I'd smile and do my job, and on Monday, I'd hang her photograph up on the wall in my office and throw darts at it.

I fixed a calm, polite smile on my face, an expression I'd mastered after dealing with more emotional brides than I could count. Placing myself directly in the line of fire, I stepped back up to Lauren, relying on my demeanor rather than height to put her in her place.

"Like I was saying, Tanya can't be here. Unfortunately, she's just not an option," I said, finding just the right mix of consolation and stern efficiency. "I know you did your trial with her, but we're going to have to improvise. You're still getting married today and you're going to look gorgeous. You're still the bride. It's still your wedding day. Nothing can mess that up, right?"

Lauren pursed her lips but didn't say anything, so I continued.

"Now, Siobhan here is very talented," I said, gesturing the unlucky stylist over to my side. "I've shown her the photographs we took after your trial and she's confident that she can do your hair exactly how Tanya did."

_Please don't call my bluff. Please don't call my bluff_, I prayed frantically. Of course I hadn't shown her anything in the two minutes since I'd walked in the door, but knowing Lauren, the only way to get her to agree would be if she thought the new stylist was just as good as, if not better than, the old one. Cardinal rule of dealing with difficult brides: know how BS.

"It's a beautiful style, Lauren," Siobhan jumped in with complete confidence. "You have excellent taste."

_Thank you, Siobhan. Somebody's getting a big tip from me._

Lauren rolled her eyes, petulantly crossing her arms as she studied her potential new opponent. Siobhan merely stood there, unmoving under Lauren's withering glare, smiling pleasantly at the bride like she hadn't been wreaking havoc for the last half hour. The woman had skills.

Finally, Lauren huffed and glanced back at me. "I'm not paying her."

"Of course; the salon has agreed to cover the fee since the stylist you booked was unavailable," I said cheerfully, gently ushering her over to Siobhan's station. "Now just think-you'll get your hair done and have that extra money to take with you on your honeymoon."

"I guess," she pouted as she dramatically plopped herself into the chair. "Can we get started already? I don't want to spend my entire wedding day stuck in this fucking dump."

With Lauren placated (at least temporarily), I made my rounds to check on the rest of the wedding party, all back in their chairs getting pinned and curled and hair sprayed to perfection. As I helped dry tears and settle nerves, I attended to the constant buzzing of my phone, tapping out directions and mentally tracking our progress through the checklist in my head. Despite the delay at the salon, things were in pretty good shape.

The stylists swiftly worked their magic (likely desperate to get Lauren out of their hair) and everyone piled into the limousine only fifteen minutes behind schedule.

_So far so good._

**x-x-x**

**A/N: So….? I hope you enjoyed a little glimpse into Wedding Plannerella's head.**

**This story will be short-six chapters total and all of them less than 6K. Very different than what you're used to from me but I had fun switching things up. I'll be posting on Mondays and Fridays for the next three weeks.**

**If you are a part of the exceedingly patient Team TTI still waiting for EPOV outtakes from Take the Ice, a thousand apologies. I have not abandoned them, they will be coming, I just need to get my head back into it.**

**Click that little box below and let me know what you think!**


	2. The Ceremony

**Chapter 2: The Ceremony**

**A/N: Same disclaimer applies. Thanks to my lovelies, you know who you are.**

**x-x-x**

I followed the limo transporting the female members of the bridal party back to the church, awkwardly lugging half a dozen garment bags over my shoulder once we got there. Finally, I settled Lauren and her attendants into the Bridal Suite and stole my opportunity to take a breather while they all got dressed.

I put a quick call in to Kate, checking up on their progress and letting her know I wouldn't get back to the hall until the ceremony was finished. I wished I could have spent more time at the ballroom rather than dealing with Lauren's temper tantrum, but I suppose that's why I'd hired my assistants. Hopefully they could handle the majority of what needed to get done and I wouldn't have too much to finish during the cocktail hour while Lauren and Tyler were off taking photos.

_Photos. Photographer. Shit._

My internal alarm started blaring, twisting my stomach with the familiar panic that always came when a vendor wasn't in their proper place. I'd once had a videographer blow off a wedding entirely and my tummy didn't settle back to normal for weeks.

_Who was the photographer again? Cullen, right. Phew._

Immediately, my nerves backed down a few notches. Edward Cullen was one of the most sought after wedding photographers in the state. I first worked with him back when I was still a summer intern and he was just starting out. Every wedding season he grew more and more popular, with brides contacting him over a year in advance to book him. Now he was landing on practically every 'Best of' list of wedding vendors out there and it seemed like every year I ended up working more and more weddings with him.

The man was ridiculously talented not to mention completely dependable. He was one of those rare wedding vendors who was a dream to work with, for brides and planners alike. On top of being talented, he was easy-going, charming, and charismatic. Of course it didn't hurt that he was young, only twenty-eight, and good looking. I always liked working with him, enjoying his friendly company and quick humor that made the long, exhausting days go by that much quicker, and I could always count on him to be there, keeping the bride smiling and happy.

Dependable or not, it still made me uneasy that Lauren was supposed to be getting dressed and I hadn't seen him anywhere.

Keeping my pace just shy of a power walk, I made my way down the hall and stepped outside, smiling at the florist and her assistant as they unloaded her van. My eyes quickly scanned the mostly-empty parking lot, searching out his car. The previous summer I'd had to catch a ride with him from the ceremony to the reception hall when my battery died, so as long as he hadn't switched vehicles... There. Second row. Shiny, silver Volvo, a sure sign that he was at least on the premises.

The summer sun was bright and warm, the sky above the old, stone church stretched out in a flawless expanse of cornflower blue, the kind of day that makes you wish for an open field of grass to just lay out on a soft blanket and do nothing but listen to the breeze. Instead, I settled for just one moment, closing my eyes and breathing in the fresh, warm air that smelled of freshly cut grass and the hydrangea blossoms that lined the church wall.

Lauren may have been unpleasant (to put it lightly) but she landed herself the perfect June day to get married. Not that it really meant much in the long run, other than beautiful, sun-drenched wedding photographs. Only three years earlier, on a similar beautiful summer day, I'd arrived at my hometown church, carrying a big white garment bag that held _my _wedding dress. I'd turned to Rose, my maid of honor, and told her it was good luck to have such a perfect, sunny sky. So much for that.

Opening my eyes, I shrugged it off. I didn't know how Lauren and Tyler would end up, but I could make sure that this day, marking the beginning of their journey, was as flawless as that clear blue sky.

Part of that meant finding the MIA photographer.

Stepping out into the parking lot, I glanced around the perimeter. It didn't take long to spot him. He was knelt down on a patch of grass beside the church, his camera poised in front of his face as he focused in on exactly what I'd been admiring mere moments before, the crisp stone steeple and how the light grey peak made the blue sky look that much deeper. I couldn't wait to see if his photograph captured that same sense of peace I'd felt.

Shoving my hands into the pockets of my navy cotton dress, I played with the case of my phone while I crossed over toward him. As I stepped through the grass, the cool blades tickling my feet through the gaps in my flat sandals, my stomach started anxiously churning again.

_Weird._

I shook it off as nerves. It was a huge wedding, after all, one of the biggest I'd taken on since starting up my business. It was understandable that I'd have a tougher time keeping my cool than normal. Still, I couldn't ignore the feeling entirely, nor the fact that the can-can line started up the moment I spotted Edward Cullen.

When I first met Edward, I'd been freshly engaged to Jasper, caught up in the anticipation and excitement of starting my life with him. While I had acknowledged that Edward was attractive (no sane, breathing woman could deny that) I simply hadn't had eyes for anyone else. We'd formed a friendship of sorts, chatting and cracking jokes when we ended up at the same events, but never really associating outside of that. The previous summer had been difficult, my first working weddings after the demise of my own marriage. The pain was so fresh that I really didn't pay attention to much apart from doing my job, certainly not to the looks of my sometimes-coworker.

But now...now I could appreciate the sight before my eyes in an entirely new way. How the sun teased out a rainbow of vibrant reds and browns in his tousled hair, how the rolled sleeves of his dress shirt accentuated the way his lightly tanned forearm flexed while he repositioned his camera, his elegant fingers as they twisted the lens. Though they were hidden behind his camera and squinted tight in concentration, I remembered his eyes were a bright, intense green, as lush as the grass under my feet. Just thinking about them made the can-can line pick up the pace.

I was only a few steps away when he looked up, lowering his camera just a bit as his lips quirked into a quick smile. His friendly gaze stopped me in my tracks as I soaked in that stunning color, even more beautiful than I'd remembered.

I caught myself mid-sigh and groaned at my own foolishness.

_Stop swooning like a teenage girl, Bella. Sure, he's cute, but you're not ready to go there again, and he's certainly not going to be interested. Divorced, remember? What kind of hot, young guy with his pick of women is going to willingly saddle himself with that kind of baggage?_

"Hey," he murmured as I moved over next to him. He lifted his camera once more, tilting it just a fraction and releasing the shutter twice before lowering it again to hang from the thick strap around his neck.

He pushed up from the ground to stand next to me, shifting his bulky camera bag to rest at his hip. With his attention momentarily turned elsewhere, I indulged in just one more second of feminine appreciation. _Was he always so tall? How did I never realize how long those rangy legs were under those tailored pinstriped slacks he wore?_

He turned back to me and I fixed a smile on my face, cursing my pale skin and the painfully obvious blush that spread over my cheeks.

_Maybe he'll just think I'm hot. It's June after all and I'm always running around at these things._

Thankfully he didn't notice, or if he did, he didn't say anything.

"What are you doing out here? Don't you have napkins to fold or something?" he asked, his smooth voice light and teasing, his eyes crinkled from a mix of humor and the bright sunlight.

"Actually, I was looking for the photographer," I replied coyly, leaning in toward him and lowering my voice into a mock whisper. "He appears to be running a little behind schedule."

He sniffed out a laugh, nodding as he adjusted the thick strap across his chest. "Nervous you'd have a no show?"

"Not once I remembered we managed to book Edward Cullen for this little shindig. Apparently he's some sort of big shot."

This time his laugh was full and earnest, acknowledging my playful barb for how it was intended. It was nice that despite the raging popularity that surrounded him on the wedding circuit, he remained humble. Too many people let it get to their heads.

"Are they really having five-hundred people?" he asked incredulously.

"Five-hundred and eighty-six by my list. I was up all night assembling the last minute favors she just 'had to have,'" I told him while we turned and strolled toward the doors of the church, comfortable in each other's company, unhurried for just a moment of our mutually hectic day.

He blew out a low whistle. "That's a lot of little bows to tie. How're your fingers holding up?"

"Still have all ten," I said proudly, fanning them out in front of me.

"Glad to hear it. Guess I'd better head inside and find the bride. Rumor has it the wedding planner's a real hard ass and doesn't take kindly to those who throw off the timeline," he said dryly, his lips spreading into a grin when I shoved lightly at his shoulder.

"Very funny," I grumbled, unable to fight back a smile as I followed him through the heavy doors and into the church. "Down the hall and to your left."

He lifted his hand in a salute, turning lithely on his heels and striding off down the corridor.

Once he was out of sight, I realized I'd been holding my breath and watching him the entire time. Letting it out, I couldn't help but laugh at myself for being so silly. I'd never been so ridiculous over a guy, not even Jasper. We were friends, then all of a sudden we were dating and so on and so forth. I'd loved him, but never once had I felt this sense of _excitement_ just from standing close to him. When Edward smiled at me, I felt practically giddy. Not in a way that made me feel happy but in a way that scared me and left me feeling uncertain and a little nauseous.

_What the hell is this?_

I'd never thought about dating again and wasn't planning on thinking about it any time soon, but it was impossible to ignore what was going on inside me. This was something, but I wasn't ready to dig into it and define what I was feeling.

Instead, I decided to hunt down the florist and try to distract myself.

Twenty minutes later, I was pacing the empty chapel, adjusting sprigs of baby's breath in the alter arrangements and fluffing the waterfalls of soft tulle that circled the ends of the pews. Everything was set perfectly but I could never stop myself from nit picking just a little. I stopped at the top of the aisle, squinting my eyes to see if I could make out any other adjustments that needed to be made.

"I don't think anyone'll notice if the aisle runner's half an inch off center."

I whirled around to see Edward leaning against the doorway, watching me with amusement. The can-can line was back in an instant.

"I'll notice." I shrugged, turning back to study my work with a smile.

"Always the perfectionist."

"That's why they pay me the big bucks," I joked, smirking at him playfully. My heart beat just a little faster when his smile blossomed into a grin. Needing something to do with my hands, I stepped over to the open doors and tried to focus in on adjusting the floral wreaths that hung from thick satin ribbons, tucking the blush toned roses just a fraction deeper and not really accomplishing everything.

"Stop that. You're picking," Edward lightly chastised. I gave him a guilty smile and clasped my hands together in front of me to keep them still.

"How's Lauren doing?"

He shrugged and leaned back against the doorjamb opposite where I stood. "Complaining about something. I left my assistant to handle the shots of her getting into her dress. Figured she'd be more comfortable with a woman."

"Liar," I grinned, embracing the opportunity to take some weight off my feet for a minute as I mimicked his position. "You just wanted to get out of the lion's den."

His smile was innocent and mischievous all at once, like a little boy who knew exactly what he was doing but was still trying to charm his way out of a time-out. "Can you blame me?"

"Not at all. What do you think I'm doing out here?" I said with a coy giggle.

We stood there in comfortable silence, leaning and looking, the sounds of people milling around in the lobby and rushing through the halls around us. For just one minute, then two, then three, we stayed there until the outside world caught up with us.

"Long day today," he sighed as he pushed off the wall, stretching his back out just a little.

"You've got some catching up to do, Shutterfly. You've only been on the clock for half an hour," I teased. A breeze came fluttering through the stuffy church, likely someone propping the front doors open, and I gathered my hair back off my neck, scrunching it in my hands to cool off a little.

"Hey, what happened there?"

"What?" I asked, glancing up to see Edward just as he stepped in front of me, his brow scrunched in concentration and his gaze focused on my neck.

"The scratches on your neck. Right here," he said gently, the tip of his finger tenderly tracing over my skin as light as a kiss.

I felt completely frozen, unable to breathe. Edward was touching me. I realized in that instant that he'd never touched me before, not even a handshake. If he had, I certainly would have remembered because the moment his skin made contact with mine, my entire body seemed to come alive, humming with electricity.

A spark, I realized with a jolt. Wasn't that what Jasper had told me he felt with Alice? What he'd said was missing with us? I'd never once understood what he was talking about.

Until now.

I cleared my throat as subtly as possible, not wanting to freak him out over my reaction to such a seemingly casual gesture.

"Oh, that. Would you believe I got mauled by my cat?" I asked, playing it off with my normal wry humor. _Normal, Bella, just act normal._

"I thought you were allergic to cats," he said, softly stroking over the raised abrasions.

I wanted to close my eyes and bask in the way he was making me feel, but I caught myself just in time. Then it hit me what he'd just said. _Wait... _

"How did you know that?" I asked, baffled how he'd know such an insignificant tidbit about my life.

His eyes, still trained on my neck, widened for just a fraction of a second. If I hadn't been watching him so closely I would have missed it entirely. He swallowed, looking just a little uncomfortable as he cleared his throat.

"You're deflecting. How'd you get this?" he asked. It didn't slip past my notice that he'd avoided my question, but I decided not to press.

"Acrylic nails and an emotional meltdown," I confessed with a shrug.

"Lauren did this to you?"

"It looks worse than it is," I insisted, brushing his hand away and dropping my hair back over my shoulders to cover the mark. "No big deal."

He stared at me quietly for a moment, his jaw set and his eyes simmering as they searched my face. I felt like I couldn't hide anything from those intense, searching eyes.

"I mean it. I didn't even notice it was there."

Finally he seemed to relax, taking two steps back to resume a polite, casual distance. Then he smiled and the tense intimacy that had surrounded us for just a few moments was gone.

"It'd serve her right to spend her wedding night in a jail cell for assault."

"Oh my gosh, could you imagine?" I laughed. "Lauren sitting there in her giant poofball and three-thousand dollar tiara, mascara running down her face while she got squished between a hooker and some butch biker babe in leather and a mullet."

"The criminals would be clawing to escape. There's nothing scarier than an angry bride."

"Ain't that the truth," I groaned.

He hesitated for a minute, fiddling with the strap on his camera as he looked at me. "Have you at least got some Neosporin in that magic bag of yours?"

"Of course."

"Of course, she says. If I ever get stranded somewhere, I want you with me. I'll bet we could survive the apocalypse with the contents of that bag alone," he teased.

"Very funny," I dryly returned.

"Go put some on those scratches, will ya?" he implored, his voice filled with sincere concern. "I mean, I'd hate to think you might get infected with Bridezilla cooties."

I clutched at my hair, making sure the mark was still covered and rolled my eyes at his obsession over a little scratch. "Don't you have some snapshots to take?"

"Ouch, Swan," he said, slapping his hand over his heart like I'd wounded him. "You know very well that every click of my shutter is a masterpiece."

"Well then go be a genius and let me get back to work," I said, shooing him off, turning away so he wouldn't see the way my cheeks flushed when he laughed.

For the next hour and a half, I hurried around the church, setting out programs, speaking to the pastor, squeezing bridesmaids into dresses that didn't fit because they stubbornly ordered them a size too small. The usual.

Edward and his assistant were always there in the background. If the constant quiet clicking of the camera didn't alert me to his presence, this newfound awareness for him wouldn't let me forget.

Still, I stayed on task, and soon enough the guests were seated, packing the church to the brim. Prelude music filled the church as I wrangled members of the wedding party into their proper places in line and armed the bridesmaids with their bouquets, quietly reminding them to smile and take it slow as I sent them one by one down the aisle.

With the flower girls sweetly stealing the spotlight, I rushed back to straighten Lauren's train and fluff her veil, trying not to gag as her rotund father pinched her cheek and waxed poetic about his 'snookie ukums getting mawwied.'

I stepped off to the side to let them have their moment before heading down the aisle and felt a tap on my shoulder. Edward was standing there next to me, tender apprehension filling his eyes as he gazed down at me.

"You gonna be okay?" he murmured softly.

"Yeah, why?" I asked, surprised and more than a little confused at the question. He didn't answer, simply continued to regard me with that unwavering expression, searching for something, though I didn't know what. I nodded at him reassuringly though I couldn't keep the perplexity out of my voice. "I'm good here."

The look in his eyes cleared and he nodded rapidly, chuckling at himself as he muttered.

"Right. Never mind; of course you are."

I gave him an odd look, raising my brow, silently asking 'what was that about?' He shook his head and smiled, so I shrugged it off.

"Better go find your spot, Shutterfly. You're gonna miss all the action," I said as Wagner's _Bridal Chorus_ started to blare through the organ.

He dropped his hand to my shoulder, squeezing once before he stepped away to find his seat, ready to capture Lauren's big moment.

_That was weird,_ I thought. There was something about Edward today. He seemed…different somehow, though I couldn't be sure if he was actually acting differently or if it was just my perception of his behavior that had changed since my earlier epiphany. Maybe I was projecting my crush or whatever this was on him, exaggerating each word and gesture into something that wasn't really there.

The truth was, I had no idea what I was doing. I'd been with Jasper for so long that I didn't know how to be with anyone else, how to act around a different guy, how to handle my attraction. It was more than a little terrifying and this day was busy enough without having to process my feelings.

_Later, Bella, you'll figure it out later._

At the front of the church, Lauren's father tearfully handed her off to her groom, patting him on the back and taking his seat next to Lauren's mother. The pastor's voice rang out through the room, reciting words I'd heard a thousand times before. And I stayed.

The previous season, I'd always left during the ceremony, sending the bride on her way and then rushing off to keep myself busy with other tasks. The ceremony was the toughest to handle. It had always been my favorite part of the day, but after the divorce, I couldn't take it. It hurt too much to watch other couples say those same words that I'd said, knowing that, for me, they hadn't held true.

But today I stayed. I stood against the wall at the back of the church and soaked in every moment-the unity candle, the rings, the vows. And for the first time in a year and a half, I let myself cry happy tears while I watched two people bind their lives together through marriage.

While Lauren and Tyler promised to love, honor and cherish, I found my attention wandering over the crowd until I found Edward. But his gaze wasn't fixed through his camera on the couple in front of them like I'd expected. He was looking back at me.

**x-x-x**

**A/N: Ah, Shutterfly…**

**The response to the first chapter was simply overwhelming. You guys really are the best readers ever. Thank you for the warm welcome back! I'm so sorry I didn't get a chance to respond to reviews this time around but please know that I read (probably multiple times) and appreciated every one of them.  
><strong>

**I always love hearing your thoughts and reactions, so click on that little link & leave me some love, lemme know if Shutterfly was worth the wait…**

**Oh, and it's been awhile since I've done a fic rec in a chapter. If you are not reading The Best I Ever Had by WhatsMyNomDePlume...I don't believe I know you... (bonus if you can name that movie). Seriously though, go. Read. You will thank me.**

**See you Monday. :)  
><strong>


	3. The Cocktail Hour

**Chapter 3: The Cocktail Hour**

**A/N: Same disclaimer applies. Thanks to C & K, aka 'the cheese to my macaroni.'  
><strong>

**x-x-x**

I didn't realize how fast and hard my heart was beating while I stood there, drowning in the green depths of Edward's intense stare until he turned away, breaking whatever weird spell his gaze had cast upon me. It was one of those moments like in the movies when all sounds fade away and every second seems to last forever in complete and utter stillness.

Then suddenly, the organ started blaring Mendelssohn's tune, resounding through every inch of the high-ceilinged room, and I was left feeling dizzy and disoriented. I damn near wobbled from the sheer physical effect that one look had on me. The thousand eyes filling the church turned my way as they watched Lauren and Tyler stroll arm in arm back up the aisle with the new Mrs. Crowley happily absorbing every speck of attention.

Ignoring the heavy pounding in my chest, I slipped a professional smile on my face, congratulating the happy couple when they stepped out of the chapel, and escorted them over to where they needed to stand to receive their guests.

Greeting over five hundred people was going to take forever, but it was something both sets of parents insisted on, needing to make a good impression on all the hoity-toity members of society they'd invited to share in their children's special day. Receiving lines were fine and dandy, and usually I wouldn't mind the extra time it would give my team to finish their work over at the hall, but after that crazy, confusing moment I shared with Edward during the ceremony, I was feeling overwhelmed and desperate to get away, find some space, catch my breath.

I didn't have time to be bombarded with feelings I had no idea how to process.

Luckily it was easy to get lost in the sea of people streaming through the doors and filling the lobby. I busied myself directing guests, graciously smiling at compliments from people who'd guessed my role in this glamorous circus, subtly hustling everyone along so that the bride and groom could step away to pose for formal portraits with their families in the church.

Normally I'd be practically glued to the bride's side during this time, ready to jump in with anything she needed, but being near Lauren meant being near Edward and my emotions were too close to the surface to handle his piercing gaze and the way he seemed to be able to read me so clearly.

Why had he been looking at me? What did it mean? What was he thinking?

_Later, Bella. You're not thinking about this right now._

When I caught a glimpse of him and his assistant weaving through the crowd, making their way outside to capture the newlyweds' grand exit from the church, I ducked into the chapel to check on Lauren.

As soon as I stepped through the doors, I was waylaid by the father of the bride. Not quite the distraction I'd been looking for.

"Ah, wedding planner! Where have you been hiding?" he bellowed cheerfully.

_As far away from you_ _as possible_, I thought to myself as I fought to keep my smile from morphing into a grimace.

Lauren's parents were almost as bad as she was, micro-managing every little detail of this blessed event, constantly questioning my capabilities, criticizing every suggestion I made and then coming back two weeks later to ask why we hadn't gone with that very idea I'd recommended.

But Charles Mallory, or Chet as he'd puffily insisted I call him, signed all the checks, so it was important to keep him happy. If there was one thing I really disliked about weddings, it was playing politics. Unfortunately it was unavoidable more often than not.

"Everything looked perfect," he boomed, snaking his arm through mine and tugging me along as he waddled toward the center aisle. "Let's just hope we get what we paid for and the rest of the night is up to par. Wouldn't want my little princess to be disappointed, would we?"

I tried to ignore the implied barb about my fees. Did the man have any idea what kind of crap I had to deal with? If anything, I was grossly underpaid when it came to Lauren and her outrageous demands. In fact, I was going to end up taking home significantly less than I'd planned on because she'd added so much after signing the contract that I had to bring in two extra people at the last minute to help get everything done.

Oh, well. You live, you learn, you seek out legal advice to refurbish your contract for such occasions.

"Now, you remembered to get the Cristal, didn't you? We've got a lot of important people coming and they'll be offended if we serve them anything else."

"Oh good, Isabella, I was just looking for you," Lauren's mother, Mary, popped in out of nowhere, latching on to my other arm. These people sure knew how to ambush. "You didn't seat my cousin Harriet next to Chet's uncle, right? Because she's abhorrently left wing and I'd hate to have them get in a row over politics in the middle of the salad course."

"Oh, and my old chum, Henry, wanted to say a few words during the speeches, I told you that, right?" Chet asked, barreling on without giving me the chance to inform him that no, in fact he _hadn't_ told me that. "So I'll just hand the microphone off to him when I'm done. Went to Harvard together, did you know that? He's a good friend of the family, wants to give the kids his blessing, isn't that nice? Of course he's running for re-election this fall so he'll take any chance he can to spread the word, if you know what I mean."

Chortling heartily at himself, he nudged me repeatedly in the side with his beefy elbow until I played along and chuckled knowingly with him.

_Somebody save me._

"Isabella, I need my dress bustled!" Lauren huffed impatiently.

For once, she was the lesser of two evils and I jumped at the opportunity to escape Chet and Mary's clutches.

I patiently assured them that everything was taken care of and that all their requests, past, present, and future, would be met to the fullest extent of my abilities. Until the hall shut down and I could forget any of these people even existed.

_Won't be coming back for a reference, that's for sure._

I hurried up to the alter where Lauren stood tapping her feet and got to work searching through the abundance of skirt for the ties to keep her lengthy train from dragging on the ground. Her bridesmaids all sat in the front row of the pews, tittering and looking bored.

"Could you hurry up?" she fussed, turning just enough to glare at me that I dropped the string I'd just grabbed ahold of. _Damn it._

I refrained from suggesting she ask some of her friends to help out, after all that's why she'd demanded they all attend her fitting-to learn the proper way to tie her bustle. I also didn't mention that I would have been finished already if she hadn't insisted on a complicated 22-point French bustle. My tongue was going to have permanent scars from biting it so much in one day.

"Almost finished," I assured her, picking up my pace a little. Anything to get her on her way.

"We're keeping Edward waiting. I'd hate to make him rush through taking all the shots I asked for. He is _so _talented," she said with a dreamy sigh.

I couldn't help but think the awe in her voice wasn't simply over the photographs he took. Not that I should have been surprised. I'd seen more than one bride give him the sex eye in the past. I'd always rolled my eyes and felt a little sorry for the groom that his new wife was obviously lusting over the wedding photographer, but other than that it hadn't bothered me. This time I found myself gritting my teeth and pulling the knots on her dress with a little more force than necessary. When I almost snapped a ribbon, I forced myself to take a breath and settle down.

_Stop being ridiculous, Bella._

"You're all set," I said as soon as the last knot was firmly tied. That sucker wasn't going anywhere.

"Finally," she snapped, flouncing down the steps before I even had the chance to stand. "Can we go already?" she called out to no one in particular, yanking her bouquet out of one of the bridesmaid's hands. As expected, every one of them jumped to their feet and fell in line. After all, who would dare disobey one of Lauren's commands?

I really wished someone would inform her that putting on a gaudy tiara didn't turn her into a queen.

"You're welcome," I muttered under my breath once the group was a safe way up the aisle.

Once the door shut behind them, I plopped back on the marble floor, stretching my weary legs out in front of me and indulging in one moment of peace and isolation.

For the first time ever working a wedding, I really wanted to hit the bar at the reception and grab a stiff drink.

**x-x-x**

When I arrived back at the reception hall, I parked by the front doors and pondered trying to reach Kate on her cell rather than searching her out inside. I'd loaded the heavy altar arrangements into the back of my car so we could re-use them as décor for the reception and there was no way I was lugging them upstairs all on my own. Looking at my watch, I decided there was plenty of time before we needed to open the doors for the cocktail hour. I'd send Carmen and Angela back down to haul up the goods. Ah, the perks of being in charge.

I snagged my oversized bag and jogged up the stairs to the venue. What was it Edward had called it? My magic bag? I suppose it was an appropriate title considering I had the equivalent of a convenience store tucked neatly inside. What can I say? I was a Girl Scout. Be prepared and all that jazz. Besides, you never knew when someone was going to need scissors or duct tape or sidewalk chalk at one of these things. My mini sewing kit saw more action than I did. Speaking of action, I even had a couple of condoms stashed in there…just in case. There was always some poor schmuck groomsman who wasn't prepared. Too bad I bought the condoms and never actually got any personal use out of the things.

God, I missed having sex.

Maybe one of these days I should take up one of the groomsmen that habitually hit on me once the booze started flowing, just to "butter my bread" so to speak. Not that I really wanted to go that route. I'd never been one for casual sex, thus why my total partner tally sat at a whopping one person. But I was closing in on a solid two years with no male assistance in that department and sooner or later I was going to grab the nearest man I could find and ask him to just lay on top of me and wiggle for a while.

Of course that got me thinking about Edward again and how he was the first man since my divorce that got me thinking about sex in anything more than general terms. He had me wondering about how he'd look under those crisp dress shirts he always wore when he was working, how warm and smooth his skin would feel beneath my fingertips, the sounds he'd make when I made him…

_Son of a…_

Right in the middle of that lovely and completely distracting line of thought, I rammed straight into a low table someone had set up for the gifts and hadn't managed to move into place quite yet.

_That's gonna leave a mark_, I groaned to myself and rubbed at the throbbing pain at my hip.

_Serves you right for going down that road when you're supposed to be working. Or at all._

Edward Cullen didn't belong in my fantasies, no matter how perfectly tailored to them he might be.

While I didn't know a whole lot about him outside of a professional capacity, there was just something about him that was so….unspoiled. He seemed like the kind of guy who belonged in the suburbs with a perfect wife and a dog and a picket fence. Not the kind of guy who should have to settle for being the backup plan. Someday he'd get married, and he didn't deserve to be a second marriage. A second husband.

_Second husband? Hold the phone, Bella, you are really starting to lose it. You haven't even told the guy you like him yet. Hell, you haven't even established that you _do_ like him._

What a clusterfuck.

I scrubbed my fingers over my face, tempted for just one second to try gouging my eyes out so that I couldn't possibly spend another second dwelling on this line of thought.

Cracking my neck and hoisting my bag up a little higher on my shoulder, I composed myself before striding down the hallway toward the ballroom. When I pulled open the heavy door and stepped inside, a satisfied smile bloomed across my face and for one moment, everything else melted away.

The overhead lights had already been shut off and the room was dim, waiting for the hundreds of tiny candles to be lit and cast their intimate glow. Despite the lack of light, the room took my breath away. Gauzy white fabric billowed across the ceiling, laden with tiny, twinkling white lights. Every surface was draped in white fabric, the chairs accented with soft rosy pink silk sashes. Crystal candelabras and clear vases overflowing with blush toned flowers sat at the center of every table, every blossom lush and perfect. An impressive seven-tiered cake covered in intricate pink scrollwork and shimmering pearl dust sat front and center, acting as the star of the show.

Cocktail tables lined the dance floor and the hors d'oeuvres buffet was already piled high with yummy looking canapés that had me drooling and practically aching to pick up a plate. Tuxedo clad waiters hustled between the tables, putting the finishing touches on place settings, and the bartenders were uncorking bottles of wine and polishing glasses. My team was scattered around, straightening escort cards and making sure every table cloth draped just right.

Progress. Up until we threw open the doors to admit the guests, there'd be tweaks and adjustments. But even unfinished, the room was stunning and I stood still to indulge in one minute of well-deserved satisfaction.

_Damn, I'm good._

"Oh, Isabella, you're here, thank goodness." I turned to see one of my assistants, Angela, weaving through tables on her way toward me, looking a little frazzled.

"Hey, Angela. Everything looks great in here," I said, patting her reassuringly on the shoulder as she fell in step beside me. Angela tended to be a little over-dramatic and quick to panic. She was the greenest member on my team and I really hoped she learned to calm down a little with more experience. She had a lot of potential if she didn't freak out over every tiny mishap.

"Oh my gosh, it's been a zoo here," she gushed, wringing her hands as she scurried to keep up with me. "The caterers keep wanting to change things and the bartenders said they only had six bottles of red wine with them, can you believe that? I mean, how can they expect to do a wine pour with only six bottles of red? And the escort card table's way smaller than what they originally told us so we had to switch it with the table for the gifts, only now there's not going to be enough room for…"

"Angela," I interrupted her gently, knowing she'd only continue to ramble if I didn't. I stopped and turned toward her, putting my hands on her shoulders.

"Yeah?"

"Did you get everything taken care of?"

"Yeah, I mean, Kate ran down the street to pick up more wine and-"

"And everything looks spectacular. Stop worrying so much. That's my job," I told her with a friendly wink and a light squeeze before dropping my hands.

"Right. Sorry," she mumbled, a sheepish blush stealing over her cheeks.

"Could you grab Carmen and get the altar arrangements from my car? Put one on the counter by the guest book and the other in the sitting room down the hall."

"Sure! Yeah, I can do that," she said eagerly, instantly perked up again with the new task on her plate.

"Oh, and can you please move my car when you're done?" I asked, digging out my keys and tossing them to her, giggling softly at the intense concentration on Angela's face as she walked away, like she'd just been assigned to a mighty quest.

It was her first season working weddings and she hadn't quite lost that wide-eyed awe that every new planner had. Weddings were glamorous, magical, wondrous, and most people came into it thinking they were going to stroll around in heels and pretty dresses while everyone fawned over what a great job they did.

_Damn J Lo and that stupid, inaccurate chick flick._

In reality, much of the job was tedious, exhausting, and head-ache inducing. And if I tried to walk around in three inch heels on a wedding day, I'd end up needing major foot surgery within a year.

Someday Angela would groan over having to set up escort cards and tie chair sashes yet again, she'd fight back tears when an angry bride cursed her out, and she'd resist the urge to scream when someone screwed up her carefully laid plans. But until then, her excitement was kind of sweet.

I made my sweep of the room, checking out the details and making adjustments when something caught my eye. I checked in with the venue staff, the DJ, the photo booth guys, the kitchen staff, making sure everyone was on the same page. Things seemed well in hand.

With fifteen minutes before the doors were set to open, I tossed a stick lighter to each of my assistants, taking my own to one edge of the ballroom, and set to work lighting the plethora of votive candles filling the room.

Halfway through, there was a quiet knock at the main door before it opened a crack and Edward's head peeked through. Just like that, my heart started racing again.

_Damn that head. Damn my heart. Damn this weird, confusing crush._

"Mind if I sneak in for a minute?" he asked, slipping inside and shutting the door behind him, closing out the humming chatter of guests milling around in the lobby. "Lauren wants some detail shots before people come in and ruin everything."

"Fine by me," I shrugged, turning my attention back to lighting candles, concentrating far more than necessary on the little wicks in an attempt to distract myself. It didn't work. Every part of me seemed hyperaware of his presence, of the steps he took and how every one of them brought him closer to my side.

When he was right next to me, I couldn't stop myself from glancing up at him. This time he wasn't looking at me but around the room, his hands deep in his pockets as he turned in place, checking out the sight before his eyes.

"Wow," he murmured. His eyes traveled over the room, soaking up his surroundings with those artistic eyes. I was always amazed at the little things he caught, how he captured moments and details that most people never even noticed. "Yet another stunner, Swan. This place looks great."

"Not too pink?" I asked, scrunching my nose a bit as I fluffed a peony blossom in the closest centerpiece.

"Somehow I don't think that's possible for Lauren," he said with a teasing conspirator's smile. "But no, it's just right."

The look in his eyes and something about his voice struck me. He almost seemed…proud.  
>No one had looked at me like that in a very long time. I received compliments from strangers and was written up in bridal magazines, but it felt like forever since someone I truly cared about told me I did a good job.<p>

My dad tried to be supportive, he really did. But he'd never been the same after my mom's death and he didn't really understand my job. He was a man's man, a cop. He didn't know silk from taffeta and would never understand why people shelled out so much money for me to play around with all this 'fancy stuff.'

With just a simple look and a few easy words, Edward made me feel like I'd done something amazing. Worth-while. Memorable.

I turned to the next table, clicking the lighter frantically as I held back the tears that threatened to fill my eyes.

"Thanks," I murmured, the word sticking in my throat just a little.

"Well," he said casually, likely sensing the sudden shift in my mood. "Since you've done all the work so far, I guess I'd better get to it."

He moved away, heading over toward the cake on the other side of the room. Instantly, I felt like I could breathe again.

I had no idea what it was about Edward. He made me feel…feelings. Things I hadn't felt in a long time, things I was starting to realize I'd never felt before.

I closed myself off so much after the divorce. I wanted to avoid the pain, but in doing so I ended up avoiding pretty much everything. I used to laugh easily, I used to sing to myself and dance around the house like a goofball, I used to let loose and have fun. I used to let people in. When Jasper left me, I crawled inside my shell and became this reserved façade. This stranger who kept everyone at arm's length.

When Edward looked at me, it felt like he saw inside that shell, like he was standing there waiting, encouraging me to come back out again. But did I want that? It was so much easier to hide. Nothing could hurt me inside my shell because nothing could reach me. Sure it was lonely, but at least it was safe.

Then again, I'd always thought Jasper was safe.

I paused in my work, glancing around the room until I found Edward. He was over by the cake, laughing at something one of the waiters said as he worked.

At the carefree sound of his laugh, something inside of me shifted.

_Screw safe._

Maybe I wasn't ready to dive head first back into the deep end but I could dip my toes in and test the water.

I pocketed my lighter, leaving the remainder of the work to my team, and made my way over to Edward.

"So, how did pictures go at the park?" I asked, leaning against a chair as I watched him focus his lens on one of the floral arrangements.

"I think I got some nice stuff," he said, not flinching at all over my sudden appearance. "Good light out there today. The groomsmen all had flasks in their pockets so they got the party started a bit early. It's gonna take me awhile to edit out the dopey grins and crossed eyes in some of those group shots."

"I'll bet Lauren's just thrilled," I groaned.

"Yeah, especially when her husband had to slip away and puke in the bushes," Edward chuckled, moving a little to find a new angle.

"Seriously? Tyler's drunk, too?"

"Big time. Kept stumbling around, tripping over Lauren's dress. She looked about ready to push him out of the way and just do the pictures without him."

"Wouldn't surprise me," I muttered, imagining Lauren hamming it up for Edward, probably channeling her inner burlesque dancer to try and gain his attention. _Slut._

"What's a smize, by the way?" Edward asked, reeling me back from visions of Lauren pouting her lips and 'working it' for the camera.

"What?"

"All the bridesmaids kept telling Lauren she needed more smize," he explained, lowering his camera and leaning against the chair across from me. "Every time they said it she'd get this weird look on her face, like she was possessed or something."

I burst out laughing, charmed by the completely baffled look on Edward's face. The man was exposed to far more of the female trappings than most guys, yet he was still so adorably clueless at the same time.

"It's a term coined by Tyra Banks," I informed him once I got ahold of myself. "It means 'smile with your eyes.' Some secret supermodel trick I guess."

"Well if you ask me," Edward said, lowering his voice and glancing around to make sure no one else was in hearing distance. "Lauren needs a little more practice on her smize."

He got back to work and didn't miss a beat when I fell in step beside him, just kept moving around the room, lifting his camera and clicking the shutter when something caught his notice.

I was so curious about what he was seeing, what made him chose a specific composition, how he picked his subjects and why he skipped over others.

Finally, I couldn't take it anymore.

"Can I see something? I mean if you'd rather not, that's fine, I just-"

"Here," he cut me off, offering up his camera without hesitation. I reached for it, surprised at how heavy it was in my hands. _How could he carry this thing around all day and make it look so easy?_

He stepped behind me and reached over my shoulder, pointing out what buttons to press to move through the images on the little screen.

"Whatever you do, don't push this one," he said, taking one of my fingers and hovering it over a little button with a trash can on it. "Or I won't live to see my next wedding."

I giggled, fighting back the urge to hook my finger around his and keep it there with mine. Instead his moved away, taking his warmth with it. But I didn't feel the loss because Edward remained behind me, looking over my shoulder at the screen.

I scrolled through the images, my breath catching in the same way it had when I first stepped into the room. Even when he was focused in on the smallest detail, each photo exhibited the elegance and grace of the venue in its entirety. Details I'd worried about and slaved over for months were captured to perfection, preserved in endless beauty that would remain even after the flowers were thrown in the trash and the candles melted down to nothing but burnt wicks in pools of wax.

"These are amazing, Edward," I told him, turning to hand him back his camera.

"Thanks," he said, lowering his face though I could still make out a slight flush on his cheeks and the curve of his lips. He reached out and took the camera back from me, his fingers grazing mine just barely and it felt like they lingered just a moment longer than necessary. "It's easy with a wedding like this. All I have to do is point and shoot."

"I mean it," I said, pouring sincerity into my voice. It bothered me to hear him make light of his talent, even if he was teasing. I'm sure people told him all the time how great he was; he was probably sick of hearing it. But I still felt the urge to say something. "You have a real gift. I could never pick up a camera and see what you see."

He opened his mouth to say something, his eyes filled with gratitude and something else I couldn't quite define.

"Isabella, its five o'clock!" I heard Kate's voice call out, reminding me that there were others in the room besides me and Edward and that there were far more waiting just outside. It was so easy to forget the rest of the world when I was focused on Edward.

I nodded at Kate, asking her to let the servers know guests were on their way in before turning back to Edward.

"Guess I should go open the doors," I said softly, smiling up at him. "Did you get all your shots?"

"Yeah, I'm good. Far be it for me to hold up the sacred timeline," he teased, nudging me with his foot.

"You know, there's something to be said for order and organization," I said, strolling toward the doors, glancing back at him when he followed. "For having a plan."

"There's also something to be said for embracing opportunities, even when they're unexpected. That's part of why I love photography. The best shots I've ever caught haven't been planned," he explained as we passed in front of the windows. "The right light, the right subject, the right moment come together to create one perfect second and…"

_Click._

My head snapped up to see him lowering his camera, the lens still pointed straight at me. An annoyed scowl played over my face. I hated having my picture taken.

His eyes focused on the screen, checking the image he'd captured. His lips widened into a delighted grin and he lifted his eyes to mine.

"See? Magic," he said as he turned it around for me to see.

My face was tilted down, my lashes sweeping my cheeks as a soft smile curved my lips. The fading light from the window teased out hints of red in the deep brown curls of my hair. The background was blurred into soft color, my face the only focus. I looked…beautiful.

I glanced up to see him smiling back expectantly, waiting for me to acknowledge his point.

"Not bad," I shrugged flippantly, grinning when he clutched his wounded heart and scoffed. "You might want to save your battery for the bride, Shutterfly."

"Such a shame," he muttered good-naturedly as he nudged me in the side. "She's not nearly as pretty a subject."

I walked away without responding. My heart was too busy melting.

**x-x-x**

**A/N:**

**Random factoid of the day: White sidewalk chalk is often used to cover up any minor stains on the train of a white wedding gown. It works. Seriously.  
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**I know I'm being fail at replying to reviews this time around, but every one of them makes me smile like a giddy little school girl. Leave me some smiles? ;)**

**See you Friday!**


	4. The Dinner

**Chapter 4: The Dinner**

**A/N: Sorry for the slight delay! Same disclaimer applies. Thanks to C & K for so much more than just helping me with my little story here.**

**x-x-x**

Though I wished I could stay perched on the dreamy cloud where Edward's comment left me floating, the onslaught of people milling through the doors soon had me free-falling back to reality.

The second we opened up the hall, the evening erupted into controlled chaos. My team and I directed the flow of traffic, ushering people to drop their offerings at the gift table, encouraging everyone to sign the guest book so Lauren and Tyler could have a record of who was there to celebrate with them. Never mind that hardly anyone ever looked at their guest book again and it almost always ended up gathering dust on a shelf somewhere.

Champagne was flowing; everyone was nibbling on the delicious appetizers being passed on shiny silver trays. Everywhere you turned there were people-talking, laughing, mingling, drowning out the soft jazzy strains of music playing in the background.

Every once in a while, I'd catch a glimpse of Edward, seamlessly weaving through the throngs of people and unobtrusively capturing little candid moments of people smiling and enjoying themselves. There were so many times I'd look through an online gallery of his photos from weddings I planned and wonder how in the world he always managed to be in the exact right place at the right time. It was exactly like he said, magic.

My cheeks bloomed with warmth thinking about the look in his eyes and the sound of his voice only a short time before. He'd made me feel special. Magical. And simply for being myself. I'd never thought of myself as anything extraordinary, just the opposite in fact. I wasn't unattractive and could clean up pretty well when I wanted to, but I was still ordinary, average. When Edward turned his camera to show me the photo he sneakily took of me, I felt anything but average.

At that very moment, he lowered his camera just enough that I could make out his bright green eyes over the top. As they had been so often that day, they were focused directly on me, filled with bright mischief over catching me staring…again. Did he always look at me so much and I'd just never noticed, or was this a new development, along with the can-can dancers in my stomach that started kicking every time he came near?

He grinned at me and winked, keeping his eyes trained on me for one more second as my cheeks burst into flames, then lifted his camera again and went back to work.

Which is exactly what I needed to do. I had a wedding to run; I didn't have time to get distracted by swoony photographers with sexy bronze hair and piercing green eyes.

I made a quick pit stop at the bar, grabbing a sip of cool ice water to chase away the flush on my skin, and then went searching for the wedding party.

They were exactly where they were supposed to be, still hanging out on the party bus in the parking lot while they waited for me to line them up for their grand entrance to the reception.

Unfortunately, they weren't exactly behaving themselves. The entire bus was shaking from the volume of the bass pumping through the speakers and when I stepped through the doors of the bus, I practically choked on a cloud of smoke. And not the kind that comes from cigarettes.

Bridesmaids where hiking up their skirts and practically offering lap dances to a few of the groomsmen and every single person had at least one drink in their hand, some sucking back from bottles in both fists.

I resisted reaching up to rub at the pressure building in my temple and tried to hold my breath and avoid inhaling.

Sometimes this job felt like babysitting a bunch of misbehaving five year olds. They pouted, they complained, they never did what you wanted and were always getting into trouble. _Stupid grown up toddlers._

"Oh, Isabella, finally. We've been sitting out here forever. I want to go in now," Lauren whined while slurping down a can of cheap beer.

"We just need a few minutes to get all the guests to their seats and then we can head in, alright?" I smiled patiently while frantically tapping out a note to my team to get everyone in their seats ASAP or we'd be dealing with a meltdown.

"Fine," she huffed, "I just don't get what's taking you so long. We're missing out on the party."

For what felt like the hundredth time that day, I bit my tongue and refrained from telling her that she'd set the original timeline and was inflexible when I'd suggested shortening the gap between the ceremony and their grand entrance. Ah, the joys of being the planner- no one pays attention to you until something doesn't go their way and then you catch all the flack.

Besides, it seemed like the party was certainly going strong on the bus. Last I saw, no one was flinging thong panties around inside the ballroom. _Gross._

I hung by the door, ducking my head out every once in a while to catch a breath of fresh air while I waited for Kate to give me the signal that we were good to go.

From this point in the night through the first ceremonial dances, every minute was intricately plotted with very little wiggle room. Inevitably, something always ran late but I wasn't eager to start off behind the clock, especially with the addition of Chet's sure-to-be-long-winded politician buddy tacking on to the toasts.

Finally, Kate sent me the okay and I ushered the wedding party off the bus to line up right outside the doors to the ballroom.

I arranged everyone into their correct order, making sure the bridesmaids all had their bouquets and straightening boutonnieres on tuxedo lapels. Five more minutes and they could all kick off their shoes and let their hair down a bit and it wouldn't be my problem. I just needed to get everyone through the doors and to their seats while looking slightly presentable.

As I circled around the front of the line, one of the groomsmen reached out and snagged me to his side, winding his beefy arm around my waist, far lower than propriety allowed.

"Hey Wedding Girl," he slurred, the smell of cheap alcohol wafting over my face as he tightened his grip. "Think you could plan some time to meet me in the bathroom later? It wouldn't take very long. Might even loosen you up a bit."

He leered at me suggestively while his buddies behind him egged him on and let out a few wolf whistles.

The man was a full foot taller and had about a hundred pounds on me, but I was no damsel in distress. Leveling him with a glare, I lifted my knee just enough to put some pressure on a certain sensitive area.

"If you don't take your hands off me in the next five seconds," I said icily, "You can plan on spending the rest of the night icing your junk. Got it?"

He winced when I nudged my knee forward a fraction of an inch and quickly dropped his arms.

"Bitch," he muttered, stepping back into line while his friends slapped him on the back and trash talked.

I turned away, looking for a little space, and ran smack into the solid wall of Edward's chest. His arms lifted to steady me and this time, I didn't mind being held just a little. _His_touch was gentle, not groping and it made me feel safe and protected instead of trapped.

When I glanced up at him, his gaze was fixed in a glare above my head. Then his eyes lowered to mine, searching for one moment before they shifted from anger to amused admiration.

"Nicely handled, Swan," he said, giving my shoulders a squeeze before lowering his hands. "I'm impressed."

"Oh, yeah, well you can't grow up with a cop for a dad and not learn how to handle a few drunks," I stammered, embarrassed that he'd obviously seen the whole scene play out.

"No white knights for you, huh?"

"I can take care of myself," I insisted, straightening my spine a little.

He looked down at me quietly for a minute with that look in his eyes that made me insanely curious about what he was thinking. He opened his mouth, then closed it again.

"You about ready to go?" he finally asked, scratching at the back of his neck and glancing behind him at doors of the ballroom.

"Yeah, I just need to let Kate know to cue the DJ," I said, slipping my phone out of my pocket and shooting off a message to my assistant to let her know we were good to go.

"Hey, Swan?"

"Yeah?" I responded distractedly, tapping out the last couple letters and hitting send. When I looked up, Edward was looking back at me with a wicked smirk.

"You smokin' a doobie or something in the bathroom?" he teased, leaning in to sniff at my hair. "I could get high standing too close to you."

"Very funny," I grumbled, glancing back at my phone when it beeped.

I didn't tell him that I could get high standing too close to him, too, and it had nothing whatsoever to do with drugs and everything to do with him.

**x-x-x**

Surprisingly enough, things ran pretty smoothly once the bridal party entered the hall. The food was good and service went off without a hitch, keeping the crowd of people content and happily stuffing their faces. The best man's speech was short and sweet, leaving a little extra wiggle room for Chet's last minute add on, who did indeed ramble on incessantly. I even found a minute to slip away and spritz myself with some body wash to drown out the smell from the party bus that clung to my clothes.

I tried to sit and grab a bite to eat but was far too restless, paranoid that things were going too well. Something had to go wrong, it always did.

I urged the rest of my team to sneak a plate and sit at one of the back tables, along with a few of the other vendors. It had been a long day already for all of us and they'd more than earned a portion of over-priced filet mignon.

While I strolled around the room, keeping a lookout for anything that went awry, I found my gaze drifting back to the vendor table far more than necessary. Edward was sitting with his assistant and my team, shoveling down his meal while keeping everyone laughing with some sort of funny anecdote. More than anything I wanted to go sit and just listen to him talk, to hear the words that went with the expressions playing across his face and the gestures of his hands.

But I was far too jittery to sit still, so instead I paced, likely insuring the need for an intensive pedicure the following day since my feet were already screaming their protest. Downtime was never any good for my nerves at these things. If I was busy, I didn't have time to worry about what could potentially go wrong.

Finally the time arrived for Lauren and Tyler to cut their cake and I willingly jumped at the task, making sure everything was in place and ushering the bride and groom over to their edible masterpiece. I glanced back toward the table, looking for Edward, only to find him a few feet away, ready to go. He took the reins out of my hands, talking the couple through where to stand and whose hand to put on top of the long knife. He snapped away while the happy couple smashed cake and icing all over each other's faces, a gesture I never really took to be funny and playful.

More often than not it seemed like the chance for the bride and groom to vent some passive aggressive frustration out on each other at the culmination of a long and stressful planning process.

And while Lauren was girlishly giggling at the moment, any second she'd realize she had frosting in her fake eyelashes and smearing her pristine airbrushed make-up. The woman was sure to throw a fit.

I sent off an alert to Kate to have the emergency kit handy for Lauren to touch up before the first dance and then stood back to watch the frosting fight. When they were both sufficiently covered in cake, I stepped in and handed Tyler a napkin while directing Lauren to the bathrooms where my team was waiting to fix her up again.

I felt a poke at my side and turned to see Edward grinning down at me, holding out his camera for me to take a look.

On the screen was a completely unflattering photograph of Lauren getting frosting shoved up her nose by her new husband, her lips twisted into a sneer that made her look like a snarling boar.

I burst out laughing, slapping my hand over my mouth so as not to draw attention to myself.

"Not one of her finer moments, huh?" Edward joined me in laughing. "I might have to keep this one in the final gallery, maybe order a nice twelve by twenty print to hang in my studio."

"Classic," I sighed, still trying to get control of my giggles over Lauren's pig nose. "Make sure to send me a copy. It'd make a great addition to my dart board."

"Now there's an idea," he chuckled as we watched the cake getting wheeled away for dismemberment. He turned to me with an adorable pleading look on his face. "Think you can steal me a piece before the dances get started?"

"I'll see what I can do," I said, strolling away to work my charm on the caterers.

A few minutes later I emerged from the service kitchen, armed with a thick slice of chocolate cake with raspberry mousse filling and buttercream icing and a clean fork. I found Edward sitting back at the deserted vendor table, changing out the memory card in his camera.

"One pilfered slice of wedding cake, as requested," I said, setting the plate down in front of him with a flourish.

"Yum," he murmured, setting his camera aside and rubbing his hands together with delight. "This looks great, thanks."

"You'd better savor every bite," I warned him. "I had to fight off a flower girl for that piece. She was ruthless."

He laughed heartily and picked up his fork, eagerly digging in. I turned, prepared to leave him to enjoy his cake and go check on Lauren. Before I could even take one step away, I felt his hand curl around my wrist, holding me back.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked curiously.

I gestured toward the corner of the room where Lauren had gone. "I was just-"

"Uh uh uh, Swan," he chided playfully. "You didn't eat a single bite at dinner. You're running on fumes." He tugged on my hand, urging me down into the chair next to him. "Now, you're going to sit here and share this delicious piece of cake with me. No arguments," he firmly stated, cutting off my half-hearted protests.

It really did feel good to sit down. And the cake did look pretty amazing. Maybe just for a minute…

Edward scooped up a generous bite of cake and held his fork out in front of my mouth, still holding onto my wrist.

"Really? You're gonna feed me cake?" I asked skeptically.

"Are you arguing, Swan?" he asked, wiggling the fork in front of my mouth tauntingly.

I rolled my eyes but leaned in a few inches to close my lips around the outstretched fork. The sinful chocolate and tart raspberry played on my tongue and I closed my eyes to savor the decadent flavors. A soft moan unintentionally slipped out as I swallowed. My mouth parted slightly, instantly seeking more. When nothing came, my eyes fluttered open and what I saw made it difficult to breathe.

Edward's eyes were locked on mine, dark and intense with emotions that I wasn't entirely sure I could define. The one that I did recognize without a doubt, the one that had warmth spreading swiftly in my belly, was lust. Pure, unadulterated want.

It had been a long time since I'd seen that look aimed in my direction but there was no mistaking it. No matter how confused I was, how many questions I had, how many hang ups and insecurities, there was no denying the fact that in that moment, Edward wanted me.

And when he slowly brought the fork back to his mouth, wrapping his lips around the tongs and tasting the remains of frosting I'd missed, I knew I wanted him too.

Through the fog of desire filling my head, I noticed the way his eyes lowered to focus on my lips, how his fingers steadily flexed and loosened around my wrist and the race of my pulse beneath them. When the tip of his tongue swept out over his lower lip, I bit down on mine, fighting the sudden urge to pounce on him and find out if I could still taste the frosting on his tongue.

I could practically feel the firm warmth of his body beneath mine, the silky strands of his hair between my fingers, the soft insistence of his mouth. Never before had I been so tempted to simply throw caution to the wind and just take.

And that scared the hell out of me.

That wasn't_ me_. I always looked before I leapt, thought through the consequences of my actions, both good and bad. I wasn't spontaneous; I was a planner. Everything about Edward overwhelmed me and I wasn't at all sure I was prepared for what might happen if I acted on impulse with him. I needed to take a step back. Now.

I softly cleared my throat and tugged my hand free from his hold, scooting my chair back a few inches. Edward's eyes snapped back to mine, full of questions that I could only imagine were reflected back at him. _What is this?_

He swallowed thickly, and blinked when I moved to stand.

"Don't you want any more?" he asked quietly.

"I don't know if I can handle any more right now," I told him. We both knew I wasn't talking about cake.

I gave him a sad smile, my shoulders slouching in defeat, then turned and walked away, internally slapping myself on the forehead for putting that stricken look on his beautiful face.

Throughout the rest of dinner, I tried my best to avoid Edward. After a while I realized he was avoiding me, too. Every time he caught my eye, he was focused intently in a different direction, almost as if he sensed my gaze.

I hated the thought that I could possibly hurt him, that I might be the cause of any unhappiness he might feel. I wished I could take it back, make it better, but I was still so shaken over him and how he was making me feel. I wasn't lying when I said I wasn't sure if I could handle this, handle him. I felt so utterly unprepared.

Maybe once I had a chance to just get away and think for a minute, wrap my head around this whole situation. Maybe once I processed it a bit, then I could find it in me to try again. Try being with someone. Try being happy.

As I passed by a batch of tables, still full of people nibbling on cake, I heard a sound that stopped me in my tracks, a sound I hadn't heard in a long time. A laugh. _His _laugh.

My eyes darted over in the direction where I'd heard it and sure enough, there was Jasper, sitting at a table only ten feet away, his head tossed back as he laughed and his arm slung casually over the back of a chair where a woman sat, curled into him.

I'd seen him only a handful of times since the divorce, mostly just in passing and not at all since the previous summer. He looked good-his dirty blond hair shorter than he'd ever worn it when we were together and his eyes shining bright and flawlessly blue. The cut of his charcoal suit fit perfectly across his shoulders, emphasizing his lean muscles. Jasper had always been handsome, but there was something different about him now that I couldn't quite put my finger on.

I couldn't see the face of the woman next to him, but I didn't need to. I knew what Alice looked like, had seen her once or twice before, but I'd never seen them _together. _Not like this. Not looking so blissfully happy and in love. I clutched at my middle as I felt a dull pang rip through my insides. It hurt to see him like that with her. Not because I wanted him back or because I was jealous of her, but because I was jealous of him, of them and what they had.

I was envious of what she could give him that I hadn't, what he gave her that he couldn't give me.

Alice's hand lifted to brush at a strand of his hair and my heart dropped into my stomach. Her left hand held the distinct glisten of a diamond ring.

It was like a punch to the gut. They were engaged. He was getting married to someone else. As aware as I'd been that we were over, it was still a shock.

I felt like crying but my eyes were dry, burning. No matter how much it hurt, I couldn't bring myself to look away.

Then suddenly, I wasn't just watching them together, I was staring directly into his shockingly blue eyes, eyes that I noticed widen in surprise before I finally forced myself to turn around. I moved blindly through tables and people with only one direction in mind: away.

"Bell!" I heard him call out behind me. I didn't stop, only kept moving as if I hadn't heard a thing.

_Not now,_ I begged inside my head. _Please not now. Haven't I had enough to deal with today?_

"Bell, stop," he said again, closer this time; close enough to touch, and he did. His hand brushed my bare shoulder and I couldn't stop myself from flinching away. It was stupid to run, I conceded.

_Just say hello, make small talk for a second and get back to work. Easy enough._

I plastered a politely friendly smile on my face, the same I would use for work, and turned to face my ex-husband.

"Hey, Jas," I said cheerily. _Shit. _I slipped up and used the nickname I'd always called him. _Wrap it up and get the hell out of here, Bella._

"Hey, Bell," he replied cautiously, a wary look on his face. "Good to see you."

I nodded but didn't return the sentiment. "I didn't expect to see you here. I mean, you weren't on the guest list or anything," I stammered over myself.

"Oh, yeah, uh, I didn't think I was going to make it, but it was important to…" he trailed off uncomfortably. Alice. It was important to Alice.

"Well, I hope you're having a good time," I said, intent on swiftly making my exit.

"Bell, wait," he pleaded, reaching out to stop me when I started to turn away but dropping his hand before making contact. "Could we maybe talk for a sec?"

I looked down at my feet and shrugged uncomfortably, wishing he would just say whatever it was he needed to say and let me go.

"Not here," he amended. "Somewhere where there aren't so many people around?"

"I'm working, Jasper," I protested.

"And you probably have half a dozen people who can cover for you for five minutes," he argued, stooping down a little until I could no longer avoid his coaxing eyes. "Please?"

I sighed heavily, wrapping my arms around myself and turning toward the doors, knowing he'd follow. The quicker we got this over with, the better.

"Here, let's sit," he suggested, once we reached the deserted lobby, gesturing toward a few cushy looking sofas. I sat stiffly on the edge of one, praying he wouldn't be stupid enough to try and sit right next to me. Thankfully he chose the corner of the one next to it. Close, but not too close.

Finally, I couldn't take the silence. I looked up at him, raising my eyebrow expectantly.

"You look good, Bell," he started hesitantly. "How's work going? Your dad doing okay?"

I furrowed my brow and stared at him in disbelief. "Seriously, Jasper? You brought me out here to make small talk?"

"No, I just- I don't- Shit, Bell, I don't know what to do here, okay?" He dropped his head to his hands in defeat and a part of me wanted nothing more than to reach out and comfort him.

But I couldn't. That wasn't my job anymore. So instead, I waited silently. When he finally looked up, his expression was so lost and nervous that it sent a pang straight to my heart.

_It never used to be like this. How did we get here?_

"I don't- I don't know how to do this. I don't know the right thing to say. I mean, you were my best friend for nearly half my life and then all of a sudden that's just gone and it just…it sucks. And I know it's my fault," he continued quickly. "I ended things and I'm the one who hurt you and you have every right to hate me. And you'll probably think I'm the biggest jackass who every walked the planet for saying this, but I…I miss you," he murmured quietly, focusing on his hands folded in his lap. "I miss my best friend."

Watching him, I realized something. I felt exactly the same way. I didn't miss his kisses or the feel of his touch on my skin. I missed the way we laughed together, how we used to poke fun at each other, how we used to hang out and just _be _together. I missed my best friend, not my husband. Grasping that, I felt some of the pain and fear and anger that I'd held on to for so long start to slip away.

"I miss you, too," I whispered. "I don't think you're a jackass."

"You might want to take that back in a second," he muttered. "I, uh, I really don't want to tell you like this, but I don't want you hearing it from anyone else. Alice and I," he paused and uncomfortably cleared his throat, "well, we're uh, we're getting married. Next summer."

"I saw," I admitted, wiggling my finger to illustrate my point. "Congratulations."

"Fuck, Bell," he groaned, standing up and restlessly pacing in front of me. "I don't- I'm not looking for anything from you, okay? I just couldn't stand the thought of you finding out from someone else. You mean too much to me." He knelt down in front of me and brushed a curl behind my ear, the way he always used to. "You might find that hard to believe after everything, but you mean so, so much to me."

His gaze burned into mine with a sincerity that was impossible to deny. It made me want to cry-for him, for me, even for Alice.

"I know," I assured him quietly. "And I still don't think you're a jackass."

"Then why do I feel like one?" he sighed, moving to sit next to me. "It's like me being here with her and finding out like this is just shoving it in your face. I never wanted to hurt you like that."

I reached out my hand and tentatively placed it on the curve of his knee, smiling when he laid his on top of mine. His touch was warm, comforting, familiar, but it was missing something. Something I was starting to realize I'd only ever felt with one person. That person wasn't Jasper. And maybe it was too early to know if that would turn into anything, but I knew that the possibility was worth it.

"You looked so happy out there with her, Jas," I said, glancing over at him. "Are you?"

He hesitated for a moment and then looked directly into my eyes. "Yeah. I am. I love her."

The words didn't hurt like they might have once. They healed. It wasn't that he didn't love me or that _I _was lacking something. Alice was simply his and he was hers.

We were just three good people who somehow found ourselves in the middle of some sort of screwed-up love triangle. And it wasn't anyone's fault. It wasn't Jasper's fault for falling for Alice, for feeling more for her than he did for me. It wasn't even Alice's fault for showing up in his life. And I could see now that it wasn't my fault for not being enough. There wasn't any blame to be cast, only love to be cherished and embraced, and maybe a chance. I found myself all of a sudden yearning for _my_ chance.

"That's all I ever wanted for you," I said, turning my hand up under his to link our fingers together. "I just want my best friend to be happy."

"It's not fair, Bell," he sighed and squeezed my hand. "You deserve to be happy, too."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a movement. Looking just over Jasper's shoulder, I caught a glimpse of Edward just before he ducked back into the ballroom. A warm glow spread through my heart and a soft smile curved my lips.

"I think I'm getting there," I said, finally believing it.

**x-x-x**

**A/N:**

**So…there have been a lot of mixed feelings about Jasper. What do we all think now that we've had a chance to meet him? And cake? Can't forget the cake… **

**Sorry for the screwiness with FFN on Monday and thank you so much to those who went back in to review later. I truly appreciate every note and tweet and word of support. You guys rock.**

**Monday's update might be a little later than usual, but it will go up at some point. And I will tease on The Fictionators. See you then!**


	5. The Dance

**Chapter 5: The Dance**

**A/N: Same disclaimer applies. Thanks to C & K for sprinkles and flails and oh so much more.**

**x-x-x**

Jasper and I spoke for a few more minutes before I reluctantly told him I needed to get back to work. It felt good to just _talk_ again. We made plans to get together later on in the week to grab coffee and catch up a little after he insisted Alice would have no problem with it.

The situation was probably a bit odd from an outsider's point of view, an ex-husband making plans with his ex-wife, but something about it felt right. I couldn't completely forget about how much he'd hurt me, and a part of me thought I never would entirely, but letting go of some of the bitterness and pain already made me feel lighter. I'm sure there were those who would condemn me for being a pushover, for letting him off too easily, but I'd never been one to hold a grudge, especially against someone I truly loved.

Maybe Jasper and I were only ever supposed to be friends. Maybe in time we still could be, despite all that happened. Maybe one day we'd be having backyard barbeques at each other's houses while our families laughed together and our children chased one another around on the grass. Stranger things have happened.

When he hugged me and kissed my cheek before walking back into the ballroom, I didn't feel those nervous jitters of attraction or even the slightest inkling of anything romantic. I simply felt relief that I didn't feel anything, and that maybe I wouldn't have to lose him entirely.

That maybe I was ready to put the past in the past and move on.

After the divorce, I felt so completely alone. Jasper had been my best friend for years; his sister, Rose, was one of the only other good friends I stayed in contact with after high school. It was hard for me to let new people in after my mom died so I didn't hang out with very many people in college.

Jasper's family was my family and when I lost him, I felt like I lost them, too. I couldn't go knock on his mother's door when I needed to cry and sit at the kitchen counter eating cookies like I always had in a crisis. I couldn't call his dad to come help me fix the leak in my sink when my own father was too busy. I couldn't call Rose and tell her how hard it was to sign those divorce papers and how much it hurt when he left because Jasper was her brother, her loyalty would always be to him, as it should be.

They'd all tried calling me in the beginning, but I never felt like I knew what to say. Instead I let my phone roll to voicemail and deleted the messages before listening. While I was fully aware how much I missed them, it was easier to believe they didn't really miss me. They all had each other and Alice stepped in to fill my empty spot. They didn't need me hanging around when there was no longer a place for me to fit.

But now I was starting to see that Alice wasn't a replacement for me. We were two different people who held two different roles. And while maybe she and Rose had become friends, they didn't have the history we did; years of secrets and friendship, of staying up late and sneaking out to lie under the stars and talk about boys. And maybe Jasper's parents loved her and thought she was the sweetest person they'd ever met, but they could still love me, too. Like they always had. They'd seen me through the worst time of my life when my mother died and my father drowned in his grief. They didn't deserve to be abandoned. I didn't have to be alone.

I made a mental note to call both Rose and Suzanne, their mother, the next day and immediately felt happier for it. For too long I'd been drifting in this odd state of limbo. Finally, it felt like I was getting my feet back under me.

When I made it back into the ballroom, I found Kate leading Lauren back from the restroom, her make-up perfectly restored after the cake incident. I pulled Tyler away from doing shots with his buddies and led him over to the DJ by the dance floor, praying he wouldn't fall over or puke all over Lauren's dress during their first dance. Luckily he seemed pretty steady on his feet when the DJ announced the couple and hit them with a spotlight as they took their place at the center of the floor.

I stood to the side and swayed softly to the music, enjoying the song and the fact that my job was nearly at an end, or at least a break. I spotted Edward across the floor, crouched down with his lens focused on Lauren and Tyler while they turned in a slow circle, her arms on his shoulders, his on her waist, just like a middle school dance where the teachers cut in and reminded you not to get too close.

I wanted to go to him, though I really wasn't sure what I should say. Everything was still jumbled inside my head, a big tangled ball of thoughts and feelings. As eager as I was to unravel the knots, I decided that I didn't need to fix everything right now.

Instead, I concentrated on my job: leading Lauren's father to her side for their father-daughter dance, organizing the lines for the dreaded dollar-dance, and averting my eyes when Tyler went diving under Lauren's skirt to extract her garter with his teeth.

Finally, the DJ put on the _Electric Slide_, a sure sign that traditions were over with and the party was underway. I instructed my team to load the gifts into Tyler's uncle's van as requested and informed them they could head out after they were done. The only thing left to do was wait around until last call to supervise clean-up and make sure the rental company got all their stuff back.

Sometimes Kate would stick around to keep me company but tonight I wasn't really in the mood. So I let her off with the rest of them and then did something I_ never_ did at weddings. I snuck over to the bar and snagged a cold beer before slipping out one of the side doors. I'd earned one drink after the day I'd put in.

I propped open the door, allowing for some airflow since the room was sure to get stuffy once the dance floor geared up. Moving around the corner until I was just out of sight, I plopped myself down on the curb and twisted the cap off my bottle with the hem of my skirt.

The night air was warm, temperatures only dropping a few degrees once the sun set on the horizon. I wished briefly that I'd thought to grab a band to tie my hair back, but I was too lazy to get up and go searching for something. I made do, sweeping my curls to the side and pressing the chilled glass to the back of my neck, sighing a bit in relief.

I could still hear the music clearly from inside and was confident I'd be able to tell if any emergencies arose. So, I kicked off my shoes, flexing my aching feet, and stretched my legs out in front of me, sitting back to enjoy my beer.

A short while later, I was bopping my toes and humming along to a horrible remix of _Dancing Queen_ when I heard footsteps approaching.

_Damn. I've been spotted._

I quickly snuck another pull of my drink before hiding the bottle behind my back. While I wasn't really breaking any rules, it wouldn't do my reputation any good for potential clients to see me imbibing alone on the edge of the parking lot.

"Well, well, well," a man's familiar voice lazily droned. "What have we here?"

I tilted my head back to see Edward towering over me, his camera bag slung over one shoulder and his fingers hooked around two bottles of unopened beer, the same kind I was drinking. Lifting my shoulders, I gave him a guilty smile and brought my hand out from behind my back, raising my drink to my lips to finish off the last remaining sip.

He laughed and gestured toward the empty space between us. "Mind if I sit?"

"Not at all," I said, patting the ground next to me. He set his camera bag down and then lowered himself to the curb, stretching his legs out in front of him like I'd done.

"Figured you could use another by now," he said, twisting the top off one of the bottles and handing it to me.

"Stalker." I grinned and bumped my knee against his leg. He smiled back, unabashed, and shrugged, popping open the cap of his drink.

"Someone's got to keep an eye on you."

I blushed and looked down at my lap, pressing my lips together to stop a goofy grin from erupting on my face.

He tilted his bottle toward mine. "To a job well done," he murmured.

I nodded agreeably and tapped my bottle against his, finding a foolish delight in the quiet sound of the glass clinking together.

We sat together in comfortable silence for a few moments, sipping our drinks and enjoying the soft night breeze.

"Didn't take you for one to drink on the job," he teased, clucking his tongue at my indiscretion. "Lush."

"Technically I'm on a break," I defended playfully. "It's in my contract."

"Ah." He nodded, lifting his bottle to take another swig.

"What's your excuse?" I needled him, flicking my fingers against the base of his glass.

"I'm off the clock. My work here is done," he said, setting his drink down and stretching his arms out behind him, leaning back on his palms.

"Already?" I asked, glancing around for a clock before remembering we were outside and I didn't wear a watch. "Huh. Well that went fast."

As much as I'd been longing for the end of this day to hurry up and get here, I was suddenly keenly disappointed at how close it was. Edward's job was done, any minute he'd take off, just like at the end of every other wedding. The thought of him leaving had me wishing we could start the day all over again just so I could spend a few more minutes with him.

"Lauren didn't try to convince you to extend your hours?"

"No, she did," he replied, a wry smirk on his face.

"Oh," I murmured, my shoulders sagging a bit. So she'd asked and he'd turned her down. Maybe he was eager to get out of here and away from me, especially after I basically kicked him in the face after he was so sweet and fed me cake. But if he was so anxious to get away, he wouldn't have sought me out and sat down to share a drink with me. That had to mean something, right? I mean if I completely blew it already, he wouldn't be sitting next to me. Still…

"You didn't want to stay?" I asked tentatively.

"Well, when she tried to grab my ass while her husband was standing less than ten feet away, I politely declined her offer."

"She did not," I said, my eyes widening with horror.

"Swear on my life, she did," he insisted, laying one hand over his heart while the lifting the other, sort of like a boy scout. He'd probably make a really adorable boy scout…

"Where were you to protect my virtue?" he demanded, digging his elbow into my side and cutting off my inner ramblings.

"I'm sorry," I said, pouting my lip out in a sign of remorse. "I guess I'm only good at protecting my own virtue. You're on your own when faced with scary, fire-breathing dragons in tulle."

He laughed and reached for my empty bottle, setting it back where he'd discarded his. "I managed to make it out alive this time. She's all Tyler's problem now."

"Poor guy," I sighed. "Though I guess I can't feel too bad for him since he obviously knows what he's getting into."

"Maybe they're a match made in heaven," he pointed out, tucking his legs in and resting his elbows on his knees.

"Or maybe they won't last more than six months."

"Never figured you for a cynic, Swan."

"I didn't used to be," I sighed, reaching out to toy with the hem of my skirt. "I guess you see enough marriages fall apart and you start to wonder…"

"Wonder what?" he probed when I didn't continue.

"If happily ever afters really exist," I said, glancing over at his face. He looked contemplative for a moment, his eyes studying mine.

"I think they do," he murmured with conviction.

"I should have known you'd be a romantic," I chuckled softly, shaking my head and looking away.

"No, seriously. Sure, people get divorced and it's hard not to be cynical when you see a couple like Lauren and Tyler who seem destined for fighting and misery, but I think with the right person…it's still possible," he said. His tone was passionate yet careful at the same time, like it was important to him to explain his opinion in a way I'd understand. "My parents have been together for over thirty years and they're still passionately in love with each other. My brother and his wife have been together for six years and they still act like newlyweds. Not all marriages fall apart."

"I want to believe that," I whispered honestly. I wrapped my arms around my knees, pillowing my cheek on my shoulder. I didn't think I could look at him and see the tender expression the surely matched his tone without crying.

I'd always been an optimist, a romantic. I'd looked for the good in people and put so much faith in love. Yes, my heartbreak was healing, and I was pretty sure I was ready to give romance and fairy tales another chance, but I wasn't completely sure I was still capable of that utter faith I'd once possessed that true love could last forever.

He leaned closer and whispered into my ear. "I think you still do. Deep down."

I couldn't help but smile gently at the confidence in his voice, how certain he seemed. It made me feel hopeful.

"What makes you say that?" I asked, lifting my eyes to meet his gaze.

"You still make your living planning other people's weddings. You can't do that and be a complete cynic," he pointed out.

"Sure you can," I argued. "You'd just have to be a really good liar."

"Okay, maybe," he conceded. "But I don't think I've ever seen a cynic shed a single tear during a wedding ceremony." He reached over, softly brushing the tip of his finger over my cheek where hours before, a tear had fallen.

"You watched," he murmured quietly, moving his hand from my cheek. "You didn't last year."

"You noticed that?"

He nodded almost imperceptibly and I was once again struck by how much had slipped past my attention when it came to him.

"I couldn't," I confessed. "I hated listening to brides saying those vows, remembering when I said them and that I didn't follow through. That's one promise I never thought I'd break."

"No one would blame you for moving on, you know. You shouldn't blame yourself."

"I know," I admitted, though in a way, I suppose I had been. I hadn't thought I really deserved another chance. I'd acknowledged the stigma that came with the title of 'divorcee' and internalized it without even really realizing it. But I was still young and had so much ahead of me. Was I really ready to let my inner romantic wither up and die?

"Did you ever think about quitting?" he asked. "Not working the wedding scene anymore?"

"Sure, all the time at first." I shrugged. "I still do from time to time when I'm having a particularly rough day. But every time I come close, it's like I just _can't_. This has always been my dream. I feel like it's what I'm meant to do. I know that if I walked away, I'd regret it more than anything in my life."

"That guy inside," Edward said hesitantly after a moment. "He's your ex-husband?"

"Jasper," I confirmed with a nod.

"Do you- Are you still…" he trailed off, like he wasn't really certain he even wanted to ask the question. He seemed reluctant to look at me, his gaze focused directly on his toes. I remembered that he saw me sitting with Jasper and the way things might have appeared. More than anything I needed him to know that there was nothing left there.

I reached out my hand and laid it gently on his forearm, absorbing the faint spark of excitement that came with feeling his warm, bare skin beneath my fingertips. His eyes snapped up to mine, penetrating and full of hope.

"No," I said firmly. "I'm starting to see that I haven't really for a long time. When he ended things I was shocked, hurt, confused. He told me there was something missing with us and I didn't understand what he meant."

Edward didn't move, didn't speak, simply sat beside me, quiet and understanding. While I was slightly terrified he'd reject me, every word he'd said to me that day, every gesture and look he'd aimed in my direction flashed through my mind and gave me courage, made me bold.

I slid my hand slowly down his arm, my fingers tracing the veins on the back of his hand and over the bumps of his knuckles. His fingers spread, making just enough space for mine to slip between them, linking our hands together. "But I think I get it…now."

His eyes were trained on our hands, seemingly fascinated as he flexed and curled his around mine, like he was testing how they felt together.

"Do you think you'd ever want to get married again?" he asked. His eyes darting up to mine, wide with shock, and he quickly looked away while he tried to backtrack. He obviously hadn't meant to ask that question. "Just, uh, generally speaking. Someday."

"I'd like to think so," I responded after considering the question. "You're right; I'm not a cynic. There's still that little girl inside of me who believes in fairy tale endings. I'm not ready to give up on her completely yet."

I took a deep breath and gathered my courage once more, slowly lowering my head until it came to rest on his shoulder. It felt just right.

"You shouldn't," he whispered.

And when he slid his arm around my waist and pulled me closer to his side, resting his head on top of mine, it felt even better.

I don't know how many minutes we sat there just like that, all I knew was that every moment was perfect and I never wanted to move. I didn't notice the rowdy sounds of the crowd just inside or what songs were playing over the speakers until it switched to something familiar.

I closed my eyes as a mixture of happiness, longing and love swirled through me, tinted with the faintest morsel of grief.

The soft plucking guitar intro of _True Companion_ softly drifted through the open door, soon joined by the steady melody of the piano and lyrics I knew I'd never forget.

"_Baby, I've been searching like everybody else. Can't say nothing different about myself. Sometimes I'm an angel and sometimes I'm cruel, and when it comes to love I'm just another fool."_

Humming a little in recognition, I snuggled closer into Edward's warmth, seeking comfort I hadn't been aware I still needed.

"What is it?" he asked, tightening his arm around me.

"This was my parent's song. I used to watch them dance around the house whenever it came on," I said, remembering how many times I'd hid on the stairs, peeking my face through the wooden rungs of the railing to catch a glimpse of them together. Twirling, spinning, laughing, kissing. They were more magical to me than any Disney couple and I thought my mother was more beautiful than any princess.

"They were so happy together, so in love," I told him, rubbing my cheek against his shoulder. "I always wanted it to be my wedding song."

"It wasn't?" he asked.

"No. After my mom died, I stopped listening to it," I explained. "I thought it would hurt my dad too much. I didn't want to make him sad."

Edward's fingers gently squeezed my hip where his hand was resting before nudging my head off his shoulder and dropping his arm.

"Feel free to say no," he said, pushing himself up to stand and turning back toward me. I looked up at him curiously as he held out his hand. "Dance with me, Isabella?"

My heart squeezed in my chest as I stared into his eyes, tender and patient and filled with something like adoration. For me. I'd be a fool to say no.

I smiled and stretched out my hand, placing it securely in his palm as he lifted me to my feet. I linked my arms around his neck and his circled around my waist, urging me closer until I had to tilt my head back to see his face.

"Bella," I whispered.

"What?"

"When I'm not working, I like to be called Bella."

"Bella," he murmured as his face broke out in a dazzling smile.

His hand lifted to softly caress one of the curls hanging next to my cheek, his knuckles just barely grazing my skin. His gaze followed the movement of his hand as it moved slowly across my collarbone, over the bare skin of my shoulder and down my bicep, leaving a trail of goose bumps in the wake of his touch.

Edward touched me like I was something precious. When his hand stroked up the back of my arm and cupped my shoulder beneath my hair, I felt completely cherished. His hold was like a steady anchor and I was content to simply lay my head on his chest and let myself drift, trusting that he wouldn't let me sink.

"_And when I take your hand, I'll watch my heart set sail. I'll take my trembling fingers and I'll lift up your veil."_

We barely moved, nothing more than slowly rocking back and forth, but it was the best dance of my entire life. The music blossomed around us, its notes and the even thrum of Edward's heart beneath my cheek the only sounds I could hear.

"_I'll be out there waiting for my true companion, just for my true companion."_

And as the melody softly faded, I felt him dip his head to press a sweet kiss to the curve of my shoulder. It was simple and chaste but sent sparks shooting straight to the tips of my fingers and my toes. It was something I'd never experienced before and something I wanted to feel over and over again. Forever.

The music abruptly changed to an upbeat R&B song with a heavy bass line and the jarring change of pace jolted me out of the dreamy spell I'd fallen under.

_Thank you, Pussycat Dolls for ruining a perfectly beautiful moment. I knew there was a reason I hated your music._

Reluctantly I eased myself out of Edward's arms, smiling up at him. "Thanks."

"Anytime," he murmured, grinning back at me.

Heavy footsteps pounded on the pavement as a disheveled looking groomsman came bounding around the corner, his shirt half untucked and his tie hanging limply around his neck.

"Oh good," he sighed in relief when he saw me. "You're, uh, shit, I forget your name, but you're that wedding planner girl, right?"

"Yeah, that'd be me," I nodded.

"Uh, Lauren sent me looking for you, said she had some kind of emergency or something," he sputtered, slurring his words a bit, his eyes clearly having difficulty focusing.

"Sure. I'll be right in," I told him, waiting until he'd disappeared back around the corner before turning back to Edward.

"That wedding planner girl," I repeated dryly, shooting him an amused look. "I wonder if I should have that printed on my business cards."

"It's worth some serious consideration," he nodded sagely before laughing with me. "You want me to stick around?"

"No. I'm okay," I said, waving off his offer. "I still have to be here for awhile. You should head home."

"You sure?" he asked, reaching down to grab his camera bag and our empty bottles.

"Yeah. Go home. You've had a long day," I insisted, reaching out for the empties so he wouldn't have to come back inside. When he didn't release them, I glanced up at his face.

"Not as long as you."

"I'm used to it," I shrugged, giving him a reassuring smile. Finally he relented, releasing the bottles to me.

"Okay, well," he stammered, rocking back on his heels a bit as he adjusted his camera bag on his shoulder, clearly delaying his departure. "I guess I'll see you…"

"You're shooting the Stanley-Newton wedding next weekend, right?" I asked, leaning down to brush the pavement dust off my feet before slipping back into my shoes. "So I'll see you then?"

He grinned and nodded, the uncertainty clearing from his expression.

"Two weekends in a row. Lucky me," he said, wiggling his eyebrows and making me laugh.

"I should get inside," I said, gesturing back toward the ballroom.

"'Kay," he said, hesitating for one moment before he stepped forward and bent to kiss my cheek. "Night, Bella."

I reached up to caress my face where his lips had touched, a giddy smile stretching over my lips.

"Bye…Edward," I murmured, not realizing he was already too far away to hear me.

Next Saturday couldn't come fast enough.

**x-x-x**

**A/N:**

**Only one more chapter to go and it will be up on Friday. Catch you then!**


	6. The Tear Down

**Chapter 6: The Tear Down  
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**A/N: Same disclaimer applies. Thanks to C & K for encouraging me to explore this little plot bunny and cheering me on the whole way through.  
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**x-x-x**

It turned out Lauren's idea of an emergency was chipping one of her acrylic nails while busting a move to _Baby Got Back_. How she managed to do so, I wasn't sure, but I suspected it had something to do with the fact that someone had pulled a few chairs out onto the dance floor, encouraging all kinds of debauchery. Ten feet away I saw a woman in a mini-dress straddling a guy, shoving her massive cleavage in his face and practically dry humping him while he chugged a can of beer.

_So ends the classy portion of the day…_

Glancing around the room, I was reminded why I typically stepped once the dance floor opened. I really had no interest in watching a bunch of desperate people getting busy on the dance floor and sneaking away to bathrooms and dark corners to do God-only-knows-what. I'm not sure what it was about wedding receptions but they always seemed to bring out the pheromones.

As I passed by the corner of the dance floor, looking for the bride, I spotted Chet palming the ass of one of Lauren's bridesmaids while she giggled and tugged on his necktie.

_Gross. This wedding has sufficiently scarred me for life._

Finally, I found Lauren, tearfully clutching her ruined finger while her mother and maid of honor attempted to console her…with vodka. Seriously? It wasn't even the woman's real nail. Besides, once the dance got started, no one was paying attention to anything other than the open bar and trolling for a hook up. I was baffled sometimes at what some brides got upset about.

I pulled out my kit and helped her file her nail down, touching up her French manicure as best as I could before sending her teetering back to the dance floor. Part of me hoped the woman would just pass out already so I could be done with her.

Stopping by the bar, I snagged a soda, looking for a little caffeine boost. As was typically the case, well over half the guests had cleared out for the night while those who remained congregated around the dance floor. People didn't usually stick around receptions past the first couple dances unless they were looking for a party.

I figured I'd get a head start on clean up, extinguishing candles and grouping them all on one table to let the wax cool, folding up framed table numbers and stacking them in one of the many storage boxes I'd carted along, any little thing that would make my job at the end of the night a little easier.

I was working my way through slipping chair sashes off the seat backs, looping them over the crook of my arm when someone came up behind me.

"Want some help?"

A smile spread across my lips as I turned my head to see Jasper standing a few feet away, his suit coat and tie from earlier discarded and the top buttons of his dress shirt undone, resting his hands on the back of a chair.

"You're a guest. Shouldn't you be out there getting your freak on?" I smirked, nodding toward the packed dance floor.

"You know I hate listening to this crap," he said with a grimace.

It was true; Jasper had been a bit of a music snob. He preferred the bluesy stuff, constantly on the lookout for the next great Indie rock band. He used to claim he'd been a great guitarist in another life though he couldn't strum a single chord in this one. Lady Gaga wasn't quite his style.

"Where's your date?" I asked, stripping another sash off a chair and adding it to my pile.

"Talking to her aunt. We're gonna take off pretty soon here, but I've got a few minutes."

"I won't say no to free labor," I consented with a twitch of my lips, gesturing for him to have at it.

We moved around the tables side-by-side with Jasper untying the knots and handing them over to me to stack, keeping up an easy conversation the entire time. It was nice working with him again. When we'd been together, he'd often show up at the end of the night to help with some of the heavy lifting and to spend time with me after a long day. We'd always worked together seamlessly and he'd always made me laugh, no matter how many things had gone wrong that day. It was nice to see that some things hadn't changed.

"So," he drawled after a few minutes. "I know it's not any of my business, so feel free to tell me to screw off, but what's the deal with you and that guy?"

"What guy?" I asked, quirking my eyebrow and straightening out the fabric draping over my arm.

"The photographer. He's had his eye on you all day and if I'm not mistaken, you've had your eye on him, too." I glanced over to see if he was just teasing me, or if maybe he was somehow disturbed by the thought of me with someone else. But his face didn't show an ounce of amusement, anger or sadness, it was the same expression he'd given me anytime he knew I needed him to listen—open and caring and full of understanding. Jasper's compassion had been one of the things I loved most about him.

"I don't know what the deal is," I admitted, continuing the move around the table. I hoped if I kept my hands busy that it'd be easier to talk. "He— I don't know. It's confusing."

"It doesn't have to be," he said, handing me another sash. He leaned against the back of the chair across from me, crossing his ankles out in front of him as he studied me. "I know you, Bell. When something comes up that wasn't in your plans, you freak out. You throw up your guard and make excuses about why this new development could never possibly work instead of considering the alternatives."

"Ouch," I winced, concentrating on smoothing the sashes over my arm. "Well, that was blunt."

"I just tell it like I see it," he said. "You know I'm not one to feed you bullshit."

"Yeah, I just figured that was one of your more charming personality quirks that I didn't have to deal with anymore," I needled him with an innocent smile.

"Very cute," he smirked, balling up a sash and tossing it lightly at my face. I giggled and added it to my pile, moving to the next table as I considered his words.

"You really think that's how I am?" I asked quietly.

"Well, yeah," he said, falling back into step beside me. "And it's understandable. I mean, you've been dealt some really crappy cards. First with your mom, and then…us. It makes sense that you don't do so well with change. I just, I'd hate to think that you'd close yourself off because of that. Because of me." He laid his hand on top of my arm, holding it there until I turned and looked up at him. "You've got so much left to give, Bell. And if you find someone who wants to give right back to you, you shouldn't shy away from that just because you've been burned in the past. You deserve that and so much more."

I stared down at my hands, stroking the edge of a sash to give them something to do. Jasper knew me better than anyone, sometimes even better than myself. For as long as I'd known him, he'd always known exactly what to say to make me feel better, when to push, when to back off and let me come to my own conclusions. I'd always felt so lucky to have someone like that in my life. That connection was really what I missed the most about him, and though it was difficult to completely forget the fact that he'd hurt me, badly, it felt so good to have that back. It was nice to have a friend who I could open up to and be honest with again.

"I'm scared, Jas," I whispered.

"Of course you are. Falling in love's a scary thing." My eyes shot wide open, my mouth gaping at his casually confident usage of the L-word when it came to me and Edward. He grinned and tapped his index finger under my chin until my mouth closed again.

"Don't look so surprised. I can still read you like a book. You're in deep, Bell, or at least well on your way there and he's so far gone over you; it's all over his face. And uh, I sorta caught a glimpse of you together out in the parking lot," he admitted with a sheepish smile. "You were looking pretty cozy."

"I'm not— He couldn't— " I sputtered uselessly. "I mean we haven't even—"

"Maybe not yet, but," he trailed off, seeming to consider his next words carefully. "He looks at you the way…well, the way I look at Alice. And the way you look at him… you never looked at me like that."

He was right; a part of me wanted to regret that fact. Jasper and I had been together for ten years, yet Edward made me feel so much..._more. _And after only knowing him such a short time in comparison. Yet Jasper didn't seem hurt at all, he sounded genuinely happy for me and maybe even a little relieved.

"But I hardly even know him, Jas," I argued, feeling ribbons of panic tangling in my stomach. _When did this all get so complicated?_

"Your heart doesn't need much to know what it wants," he responded, reaching out to tug on one of my curls. "Just think about it, okay? He seems like a good guy."

"He is," I affirmed weakly, still feeling a bit shell-shocked over the turn this conversation had taken.

Jasper placed his hands reassuringly on my shoulders, staring down at me with a look that was both affectionate and frustrated at the same time. "Don't be afraid to let him make you happy."

I knew Jasper would never accept some pat answer, or some flaky non-committal statement; he'd know if I was just placating him to change the subject. So I stared him straight in the eye and promised.

"I'll try."

He smiled; satisfied I'd follow through with my word.

"Can I make one request?" he asked, waiting for my nod to continue. "Don't go making nachos and holding all-night Monty Python marathons with him. That's ours."

I laughed and offered my own condition. "As long as you never let Alice steal your track sweatshirt."

"Promise," he grinned, holding his hand out to squeeze mine and seal the deal. He glanced over my shoulder then back down at me. "I should get going. I'll call you later this week?"

"Sounds good," I smiled, reaching down to pick up my pile of sashes. "Night, Jas. And thanks."

"You'll figure it out, Bell," he assured me, wrapping me in a quick hug before he turned and walked away.

For the rest of the night, I thought about what Jasper said; I couldn't seem to think of anything else.

He was right to be worried about me sabotaging my own chances at happiness; I'd been wrestling with the very same concerns all day.

There was no way I was in love with Edward, it simply wasn't possible. While I may have been a romantic, I was also far too realistic to believe in something like love at first sight. Until today I'd never even thought of him as anything more than a casual acquaintance, someone I worked with a handful of times every wedding season. It had to be the same for him, right? I mean, even if he'd harbored some sort of crush on me that I hadn't been aware of, there was no way he could be in love with me. We barely even knew each other.

In fact, it was scary to think of how little I _really_ knew about him. I didn't know where he lived or what he liked to do other than take pictures. I didn't know if he had another job or if he went to school or how he got into photography in the first place.

But Jasper was right. My heart didn't seem to care about any of that.

And as scared as I was about how quickly this was all happening and how overwhelming my feelings for him were already, I was starting to realize that I was even more afraid of running away and never again experiencing the way I felt when I was with him.

Just thinking about him made me smile. I was already aching for next Saturday so I could see him again, so I could feel his arms around me, warm and strong and unyielding as they had been when we danced together. I couldn't wait to just talk to him again, to see if I could make him grin and maybe even laugh enough that his nose crinkled and his eyes went squinty. I loved that laugh. And though we'd never kissed, I was dying to discover the sweet pressure of his lips, the texture of his tongue, the feel of his breath mingling with mine.

A week had never felt so long…and he'd only been gone for an hour.

The bar announced last call and the DJ wound things down a short time later. Guests lingered around the room in little groups, saying their goodbyes until the catering staff began politely shooing them on their way. Lauren and her family barely spared a glance in my direction. She was obviously eager to get a head start on her wedding night festivities, forcefully dragging Tyler out the door to their waiting limo. As much as I appreciated a simple 'thank you' and one more chance to congratulate the happy couple at the end of an event, I was far more eager to see them go.

After what felt like hours, the doors shut behind the last guest and I breathed a sigh of relief.

Until I opened my eyes to see the mess before me.

Half-burnt candles, discarded glasses, toppled over bottles, and crumpled napkins littered every surface. For all the time that had been spent transforming the room into an elegant affair, all that work now had to be undone.

When I'd been just starting out on my own, I hadn't had the resources to hire extra help for cleanup and tear down, and without a reputation behind me, most of my initial clients were budget brides who weren't willing to dish out the money themselves. After all, that's why they hired me, to take care of those sorts of details. I'd spent more nights than I cared to remember cleaning messes like the one in front of me. Looking around, I'd never been happier to know that I wasn't responsible for it this time.

The catering crew hustled around, eager to do their part so they could be on their way. I heard a few of them talking about going out for drinks afterwards and I wondered how in the hell they still had the energy. All I wanted was to kick off my shoes and crawl into bed.

I helped out with gathering anything I'd brought in, bringing my car around to load it up with emptied vases and boxes of décor. Once all the tables were cleared, I stuffed the soiled linens into sacks, ready to be dropped off for cleaning the next morning.

Finally the only thing left to do was wait for the rental company to come by and pick up the stacks of folded tables and chairs sitting by the doors. Unfortunately when I texted the driver to check on their status, he notified me that they were running about forty-five minutes behind and wouldn't arrive until around two-thirty. And I was stuck waiting around until they arrived.

A few members of the catering staff offered to stick around with me, but I ushered them off to go have their fun. All I needed to do was sit there until they showed up and then shut off the lights and lock the doors; there wasn't any need to make someone else waste an hour of their lives.

After they left, I wandered aimlessly around the room, twirling bored circles in the eerie silence. The air conditioning had kicked in full blast and without five hundred bodies to balance the temperature, the ballroom swiftly grew downright chilly.

My feet were killing me and I was exhausted, both mentally and physically. With at least another half hour to kill, I unfolded a few chairs, lining them up next to each other, and dug out one of the leftover clean linens that hadn't been used. Draping it over the chairs, I discarded my shoes and eased myself down on the improvised cot, tucking the tablecloth around me like a taco. It wasn't the most comfortable arrangement in the world, but after shifting around a little bit, I finally found a tolerable position and settled in to wait.

What seemed like only seconds later, something soft and warm brushed against the cool skin of my cheek, then my forehead, then once more on the tip of my nose. It tickled just a little and made my nose twitch, so I shifted away. But I couldn't escape it. Whatever it was made a faint trail down the curve of my face and then slowly across the bow of my lips, lingering there for just a moment. Then I felt a different pressure against my cheek-similar and still warm and gentle, but a thousand times more pleasant. There was a sweet caress on the apple of my cheek, then another closer to my ear before I heard a soft whisper.

"Wake up, sleeping beauty."

I sighed, torn between sleep and wakefulness. It felt so good to just lazily doze. But that voice was familiar and impossibly sweet. Maybe it wouldn't be such a hardship to wake up to a dream.

With some effort, I fluttered my eyes open, blinking to moisten them in the dry air. After a few moments, my vision cleared and Edward's face came into focus, directly in front of mine.

"Hi," I whispered, still a little bleary with sleep.

"Hey." He smiled softly. That gentle warmth I'd felt on my face shifted, moving upward to brush my hair back from my face. I realized that his hand had been what I'd felt, his touch what had stirred me from sleep. I couldn't think of a better way to wake up.

My eyes traveled over him, drinking in what I hadn't thought I'd get to see again for a week. He was kneeling in front of me, his crouched legs clad in dark denim, a small patch of faded gray peeking out from under the zipper of his navy hooded-sweatshirt. I realized I'd never seen him in casual clothes before. He looked good enough to eat…or maybe just nibble…especially right there below his jaw where a patch of stubble was growing in.

My eyes shifted back to his face, then narrowed in confusion. There was something different.

"Why are you wearing glasses?" I asked in a raspy voice.

"All the better to see you with, my dear." He smirked, adjusting the thick tortoise-shell rims on his nose.

"Huh?" My brain clearly hadn't gotten the memo yet that it needed to be functioning again.

"Sorry," he chuckled. "I should probably let you wake up a little before attempting to dazzle you with my wit."

"You don't have to try very hard," I sighed. A split second later, I realized what I'd admitted and slapped my palm over my mouth as I felt my face heat. Apparently my filter was still sleeping in with the rest of my cognizance.

"Oh really?" he asked, his voice filled with amused delight. "I'm gonna remember you said that, Swan."

I groaned and rolled onto my back, rubbing my hands over my eyes to clear the crusties out and try to slap some sense back into me. I couldn't properly conduct myself in the presence of Edward Cullen's charms if I was half asleep.

"May I ask why you're wrapped in a table cloth?" he asked, plucking at the fabric that slid down over my shoulders.

"I was cold," I mumbled into my hands.

I combed my fingers back into my hair, blinking widely a few times, then decided that needed to be good enough for now. _Where's caffeine when you really need it?_

"Here, how about you try this instead?" he suggested. I looked over to see him unzipping his sweatshirt and shrugging it from his shoulders. I blushed and tried not to choke on my tongue upon seeing him in a snug t-shirt for the first time. _Holy moly, the man was perfection._

"Thanks," I stammered, sitting up to reach for the offered sweatshirt. The fabric was still warm from his body and I eagerly bundled myself into it. I just barely stopped myself from sniffing at the collar, remembering at the last second that he was still right next to me and would probably think I was really weird.

"Sorry, I'm a little out of it," I muttered around a wide yawn. "How'd you get in here?"

"I got here at the same time as the rental guys," he explained as I patted my pockets searching for my phone. _How long had I been sleeping?_ "They should have most of it packed up by now, though you're lounging on the last of it."

"Oh," I gasped, jumping up and quickly moving to fold the chairs.

"I'll get those," he insisted softly, placing his hand on top of mine until I released my hold on the one I'd already lifted. "Stay here and wake up a little bit."

"Thanks," I murmured, watching him stack the three wooden seats in a short row and hoist them under his arm with ease. I might have made it carrying all three in one trip, but there was no way I would have managed quite so smoothly. Maybe it was a tiny thing, but between the sweatshirt and the chairs, I felt taken care of…and it felt really nice.

Scrunching the collar of his shirt in my hands, I indulged in my earlier temptation to inhale. It smelled like Downy fabric softener with just a hint of something woodsy and warm. I wanted to curl my entire body up inside the fleecy cocoon and wallow in the comfort of his scent.

Remembering that he wouldn't be gone for long, I took one last sniff and lifted my face, settling for hugging my arms around myself with my hands tucked deep inside the long sleeves.

Then a thought occurred to me. It had been after two a.m. when I laid down on the chairs, and Edward had absolutely _no_ reason to be here.

_Duh. Maybe that should have been your first observation rather than some stupid comment about his glasses. Way to be quick on the uptake there, Bella._

I dug into my pocket and got a glimpse of the time just as Edward walked back into the room.

"Looks like they got everything. You all set?" he asked, crossing the empty floor toward me.

"It's almost three in the morning," I pointed out, ignoring his question. "What are you even doing here? Did you forget something?"

He stopped a few feet away, staring at me with quiet scrutiny. He squared his shoulders a little and took a breath, like he was preparing himself for battle or something.

"Yes," he said firmly, swiftly crossing the remaining steps between us. Before I could blink, he was right in front of me, so close that I could feel the heat radiating from his body. His gaze dropped to my lips for just a moment before returning to my eyes. "I forgot this."

Just as I realized his intentions, his head swooped down until his mouth found mine. There was no initial hesitancy, no tentative sweep of his lips to test my response. When Edward kissed, he did it whole-heartedly and with no turning back. His kiss was sweet and demanding all at once, moving his lips ardently against mine. When I finally gained enough of my wits to kiss him back, he groaned in delight and parted his mouth, lightly sucking my bottom lip between his.

His hands dove into my hair, pulling me firmly against him until I had no choice but to wrap my arms around him and cling. His fingers pressed into my skin with urgency, like he was afraid I might disappear if he didn't hold on tight enough. But it wasn't uncomfortable, not in the slightest, and only incited my own touch to grow bolder and more passionate. My hands clutched at his shoulders, using his body to pull myself closer until I was holding onto him just as tightly as he held me.

I felt consumed by him and never wanted to break free.

When the pressure began to ebb, I sighed into his mouth, the sweet, chaste aftershocks hitting me just as hard as the initial onslaught. Tingles coursed across my skin as our lips just barely met in soft caresses between us, sometimes not even touching at all, just sharing the same breath.

His hands stroked down over my back, then up to my hair, gently urging my head down until he cradled me into the crook of his shoulder and sighed contently.

As he held me close, he whispered against the top of my head. "I got home and realized I couldn't wait another week to find out what it was like to kiss you."

I nuzzled into his chest, reveling in the feeling of being in a man's embrace again, enjoying it all the more because they were Edward's arms and I was pretty sure his might be the only ones I was interested in having around me for a very long time.

"That was…" I started to respond but couldn't complete the sentence. No word seemed sufficient to describe what that kiss had been.

Euphoric? Ridiculously hot? Blissful? The absolute best feeling I'd ever had in my entire life? How about all of the above? Nope, still not good enough. This might take a while.

"Amazing," he said, lifting his head until I could see his face smiling down at me. His eyes were bright and crinkled in the corners from smiling so hard. He looked positively giddy and I was sure my expression mirrored his.

"Yeah. Amazing works," I accepted, though it still seemed far less than adequate.

"Just like I always knew it would be," he murmured, tenderly stroking my cheek with his knuckles until I leaned into his touch.

"How long?"

He winced slightly and his smile faded. He appeared sheepish and almost nervous as he dropped his hand.

"Longer than is appropriate to admit," he said.

"What do you mean?"

He turned away and walked over toward the bank of windows along the wall, resting his palms on the ledge that ran beneath them.

"I've wanted you since the first time I saw you," he confessed, still staring out the window in front of him. I could still see his expression reflected in the glass and I hated that he looked so sad when only seconds ago he'd been smiling so beautifully.

"You probably don't even remember," he shrugged. "It was years ago, back when you were still working at the hall downtown. It was one of the first weddings I was shooting on my own and I was so nervous that I'd screw up and miss something big. I was sitting in the hall, checking all my lenses for the tenth time when I heard your voice. You were freaking out because one of the staff knocked over the cake when they were setting up."

"I remember that," I murmured, racking my brain for more details about the day.

"You looked so frazzled and annoyed and completely beautiful. There was a tiny bit of frosting at the end of your hair," he said, his lips spreading into a soft smile as he remembered.

He turned toward me then, leaning back against the window ledge. "And when you saw me, you smiled, just for a second in the middle of your catastrophe. I swear I felt my heart stop. I said to myself, 'I have to know this girl,' like somehow, deep down, I knew you were important."

I felt my heart squeeze with foolish giddiness at hearing his recounting of our first meeting. I couldn't remember _ever_ making someone feel that way. I hadn't known I was even capable of eliciting that sort of response from another person, certainly not from someone like Edward.

"Then I found out that you were engaged and it felt like someone punched me in the gut," he continued, rubbing his middle like a physical bruise still marred his skin and ached. "It was like some cruel joke, 'Hey, here's your dream girl but you don't have a chance because she's already with someone else,'" he chuckled humorlessly, his shoulders sagging a little. "Every minute I spent with you that day was torture—wanting you, but knowing I could never have you.

"After that, when I'd find out that a client of mine was working with you…I was excited but dreading it all at the same time. It would have been easy if you'd turned out to be some uptight snob or a horrible person, but of course the more I found out about you, the more wonderful I realized you were.

"When I heard you got divorced, I was…relieved," he admitted, looking completely miserable at his confession. "I mean, how fucking wrong is that, to be happy that someone's marriage ended? And I know it had nothing to do with me, but I still felt guilty. Because I respected your relationship with him and I never would have done anything to mess with that, but a part of me still hoped…" he trailed off, shaking his head at himself in disgust.

My heart hurt to see him so clearly struggling with his feelings, the way his hands curled around the ledge of the window until his knuckles were white, how his toes scuffed uncomfortably at a speck on the carpet. Most of all, I hated the way he avoided me, like he was afraid to look into my eyes.

It seemed that I wasn't the only one whose head was jumbled, and he'd clearly been wrestling with his confusion for far longer than I had. I wanted to soothe him, to just go to him and hug him and tell him everything would be okay, but there were too many thoughts running through my brain.

"How could you feel that way about me?" I asked the first thing I could think of. "I mean, you didn't even _know _me."

"I know, Bella," he groaned, tugging at his hair in frustration. "Don't you see? It didn't matter. I just felt so…drawn to you. It's like I couldn't help it."

"You _still_ hardly know anything about me," I pointed out, folding my arms in front of myself.

"We've never spent any time together outside of working weddings— "

"I want to change that," he interrupted, looking anxious and coaxing at the same time.

"The fact still remains that all you know about me is that I'm a twenty-seven-year-old divorcee wedding planner," I maintained, pacing restlessly. Then I remembered something he'd said earlier that day. "And that I'm allergic to cats. I still want to know how you managed that one," I demanded, pointing at him in playful accusation.

Some of the strain drained from his face, a mischievous gleam returning to his eyes as he smirked. "It's my job to be perceptive."

I sighed and walked toward him. "Somehow I think that's above and beyond the call of duty." I came to a stop directly in front of him, reaching my hand up to smooth the wrinkles of stress on his brow. His hands came to rest gently on my hips as I smiled at him adoringly and chided, "Stalker."

He laughed, just as I'd hoped he would. I didn't want to see him looking so sad anymore; apparently we'd both suffered enough heartbreak already.

It was going to take me some time to digest all the things he'd told me, but I realized that none of it really mattered. I didn't need to worry about the steps that had brought us here, because _here_ was exactly where I wanted to be.

"You're right," he sighed, reaching out to stroke a strand of my hair between his fingers. "Maybe we don't know that much about each other, but I know enough. I know that I'm happier when I'm with you than I've ever been in my entire life. I know that something as simple as holding your hand is exciting and makes me feel alive, that just the thought of kissing you… God, Bella, you make my heart race," he whispered, dropping his forehead to mine.

"I know that you're sweet, generous, patient and kind, and you make me laugh." He lifted his head again and stared down at me with unwavering certainty. "I know that I want to know everything about you."

"You do?" I asked, hardly more than a squeak.

"Yeah. I don't want to rush you or freak you out, but I'm pretty sure I've already fallen halfway in love with you." He paused for a moment, hesitating. "Probably more than halfway. And now you _really_ think I'm a crazy stalker," he groaned, leaning back like he was trying to step away, but I wouldn't let him.

I lifted my hands to his face, softly stroking the scratchy stubble on his cheeks as I poured my heart into my words, hoping that I could show him that he wasn't alone in this. Not anymore.

"Edward, you make me feel things I never thought I'd be capable of again. When I look into your eyes, I feel like my heart is whole again. You make me believe that maybe true love still exists, that it's still possible." I reached down and took his hand in mine, exhaling a shaky breath before lifting it to lie over my pounding heart. "And as much as it terrifies me, I'm falling right there with you."

He closed his eyes, his entire body seeming to sigh in relief. I caught just a glimpse of the wide grin that seized his lips before I was captured close in his warm embrace. He rocked me gently, like a gift he wanted only to cherish and never let go.

"You don't know how long I've waited to hear you say that," he murmured.

"I can't promise I'll make it easy," I warned him, snuggling into his comforting arms. "But I really want to try and live happily ever after with you."

He leaned back, his arms looped around the small of my back as he grinned down at me.

"How about we start with breakfast tomorrow?" he suggested easily.

I pursed my lips, considering for a moment.

"You know, technically it already is tomorrow. You woke me up," I reminded him coyly.

"Yes, I suppose that's true." He nodded, mockingly serious.

"Know anywhere that serves pancakes at this hour?"

"Are you asking me out, Swan?" he teased, poking me in the side.

"No, you asked me out, remember?" I giggled and flinched away from his tickling fingers. "I'm just renegotiating the time-frame a little. Why?" I asked, eying him suspiciously as I crossed my arms over my chest. "You have other plans at three in the morning?"

He pounced at me, emitting a sound that was halfway between a growl and a laugh as he scooped me right off my feet and into his arms.

"My only plan is to find somewhere that's open for breakfast and spend the rest of the day with my girl."

_My girl. Oh my gosh, I could get used to that. Really damn quickly._

"Is that a fact?"

"Mmhmm. But we're gonna have to shake things up a bit," he told me with a wicked grin. "I don't think I can wait until we say goodnight to kiss you again."

I didn't wait for him this time, reaching my hands up to thread my fingers through his silky hair as I urged his lips down to mine. This kiss wasn't permeated with the same urgency as our first embrace, but there was just as much passion, tempered with the sweetness of promise and possibilities. It was the kind of kiss that spoke of forever.

His lips pecked gently at my nose as he turned and headed toward the doors. "Ready to ride off into the sunset?"

I grinned and wrapped my arms around his neck. "Lead the way, Shutterfly."

**x-x-x  
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**A/N:  
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**That's all, folks!**

**Forgive the massive end note here, I just wanted to say a couple things.**

**Thanks to every one of you who has read, reviewed, pimped, what-have-you. From before I even posted the first chapter of this little baby, you guys have been completely awesome and all the excitement truly humbles me and means so much.**

**For those wondering about any future projects from me, at this point there are none. I WILL be writing the promised outtakes from TTI and that's what I'll be working on next. After that, I'm not committing to anything. As for Shutterfly and Plannerella, I won't say for sure, but there's a possibility I'd come back to visit them for a future-shot or something, no guarantees. Summer's busy for me, especially this year, and plot bunnies tend to be sparse in my brain. I'm not saying I will never write again, but I'm not making any promises either. I wasn't intending to write anything after TTI and one day this popped into my head and wouldn't be quiet, so who knows! **

**As a personal PSA that's unrelated to this story but completely related to me right now: If you're of age, able, and willing, please consider donating blood with the American Red Cross and getting tested as a bone marrow donor with the National Bone Marrow Registry at Bethematch (dot) com. Both are wonderful organizations that have had a huge impact on my family. Donating blood and marrow will not have any lasting effects on you, but it can make all the difference to someone else.**

**Thank you again and if you're still with me, click on that little link and let me know your thoughts about my little story here.**


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